Coming from humble beginnings, Tessa had always thought her house a bit on the lavish side—no, over the top—but she’d tried to make it as homey as possible given its size. Italian marble floors, two kitchens, one inside, another outside on the lanai, with a bamboo ceiling, and a large gazebo built around several sections of the swimming pool that branched off in every direction. It was almost like man-made canals, except for the Olympic-size pool in the center. A large fountain, with a separate bar and fireplace in the corner, completed the outdoor part of the mansion.
It had been so many years, and she knew that Sam had demolished parts of the inside of the house, but no matter how many walls were knocked down, floor tiles removed, and new furnishings installed, this was the place where her nightmare had begun. She would never have closure. Many professionals had told her that, in time, she would feel a sense of closure. Yet to this very day, she continued to grieve for her loss, the only difference between then and now being that she hid those feelings so that it appeared to all as though she had accepted her loss.
Never!
Her inner rage had been simmering much too long to cool down now.
Chapter 7
She entered the kitchen and stopped when she was just a few feet inside. Slowly, she directed her gaze around the large, airy, open space. The black-and-white tile had been replaced with cream-colored wood. The cabinets were of the same color. All of the appliances were stainless steel. None of the girls’ artwork, which had been attached to the refrigerator with magnets, was there. Gone were the pots of fresh herbs she had always kept on hand. Glass jars of her favorite teas no longer lined the windowsill. As it was, this kitchen held no memories for her. It was stark and sterile. Tessa found that she neither liked nor disliked the changes. It was simply a room. Cold, she thought, and shivered.
“I’ll turn the thermostat up,” Sam said, walking past her to the control panel in the formal living room.
Without hesitating, she followed him. The formal living room had been expanded. The windows facing the canal were unadorned, allowing one a perfect view from anywhere in the room. She took it all in, realizing that Sam had knocked out the wall separating the formal dining room from the living area. Cream-colored sofas, with matching plush chairs, were located in a semicircle opposite the windows. “It’s different,” was all she could come up with. Her throat suddenly felt dry, and her hands began to tremble. She closed them into fists to prevent Sam from seeing just how nervous she was. Squeezing her eyes shut, again, she could not block the vile projection that swept through her mind.
And the smell. Sharp, pungent, unidentifiable at the time. All this time later she recognized the smell.
Decomposition.
Feeling light-headed, she sat down on the nearest chair, surprised to find that it was leather. Soft and cool. Closing her eyes so that she could block the view, she was still for a moment. The swimming pool, the deck, everything in her line of sight was exactly as they had been that horrible day.
“Tessa, if this is too much . . .” Sam said. He positioned himself on the arm of the chair, which was big enough for two people.
“I just need a few minutes alone.” She felt the sudden urge to walk through each room in her former home. Unsure why, Tessa stood up, a bit dizzy, but she was okay. “Maybe you can fix us a glass of iced tea?” she asked, hoping he would take the hint to leave her alone.
He stood and brushed his hands up and down the length of her arms. “Are you sure?”
Shivering at his touch, Tessa had never been surer of anything in her life. The need to see each room was so overwhelming, it was as though she were being guided by some unseen force. She stepped away so that Sam could not touch her. “I need to be alone now. Please.”
“Of course. I’ll go fix us something to drink.”
As soon as Sam had left the room, Tessa headed upstairs, unclear about why but knowing she had to do this now and not a second later. She did not know why, but for some unexplained reason, she could not wait.
When she reached the landing, she looked at the closed doors to her left. Piper’s and Poppy’s rooms. Side by side, with their bathroom separating them. The master bedroom to her right. She wasn’t sure if she should go there first or to the girls’ rooms. Again, as though she were being guided by a force unknown to her, she went to the master bedroom, and before she could stop herself, she pushed the double doors open. Expecting to see her former room as it was, with its rich mahogany furniture, the custom-made chairs by the window that overlooked the Caloosahatchee River, she was stunned when she saw that it was empty of all furniture. She thought Sam might have left this room alone. Dozens of boxes were stacked against the wall opposite the door. The windows were bare, the celery-green carpet of her memory had been replaced with shiny hardwood. “Why?” she asked aloud, and walked over to the walk-in closet and opened the doors. Shelves that had formerly been lined with her sweaters, jeans, and shirts were empty. She traced a finger over the surface of the wood. Not a speck of dust. Sam must have hired a cleaning service. She looked at what was once Joel’s side of the closet. It, too, was empty. All of their personal belongings, collected throughout the years of their marriage and before, were most likely stacked in those boxes against the wall.
What had she expected? That Sam
