The Woman In The Shadows

Part Nine - She Belongs To Me

        

"How much longer do we have to do the whole Brady Bunch thing?" Meadow huffed, trailing several paces behind her parents, her eyes glued to the tiny touch screen she held in her hands like a fifth appendage.
"Meadow, don't ruin Brady Time" Jim replied, half turning his head towards his daughter.
"Hey, funny guy" Meadow shot back, "your ass is covered in mud and sticks from that little trip mom sent you on." She said mockingly.
Sheila slowed her pace to get a better view of her husband's backside, laughing as she saw the state of his clothing.
"Jim" she said, patting the dirt off his pants with the sleeve of her sweater, "look at you dear, you're a mess!" she continued, brushing his pants so hard it forced his hips back and forth.
"Tell me about it." Jim muttered under his breath, his body jerking back and forth as his wife cleaned him off. Jim looked up above the tree line to see the roof of the house, "well lookie there shithead." Jim stopped, turning towards Meadow as he pointed towards the top of the tree line "We're home and you survived. Be sure to Tweet about surviving such a horrific ordeal." He jabbed.
Meadow rolled her eyes, giving her father a whatever look as she stormed passed him, heading through the clearing of the dense foliage and towards the side door.
"That one takes after you" Jim quipped, looking at Sheila.
"Hey, we're both to blame on that one." Sheila winked, hugging Jim as they followed Meadow along the path that led to the door that led to the kitchen.
"Please," Jim insisted sarcastically as he quickly ran up the steps passed Meadow as he reached for the door, "allow me, princess."
Jim dramatically opened the door, bowing low as he gestured with his hand for Meadow to enter. 
"Why thank you, peasant." Meadow scoffed, a snarky look of royalty on her face as she walked by Jim.
"Ma'lady" Jim winked at Sheila
"Thank you, humble idiot." She jabbed, walking through the door leaving Jim at the top of the stairs, a fake look of hurt on his face.
"Dad?" Meadow stammered, looking worried as she pointed at the broken chair by the front door.
"Sandra!" Jim yelled, his voice echoing throughout the home. "Sandra!" he yelled again, this time slightly more panicked as he turned to Sheila "Take Meadow and go wait in the car."
"Dad relax, she's probably just lost in her book like she always gets" Meadow suggested, taking a moment to look away from her phone to look around the room.
"And the chair?" Jim asked, a hostile tone in his voice.
"Jim it's a broken chair. You said so yourself she was here cleaning, maybe she stood on it and broke. Besides, she probably just has her headphones in." Sheila said, her hand placed softly on Jim's shoulder.
Jim looked at the floor a moment before looking at the broken chair, images of what he had hallucinated - what he thought he hallucinated - in the kitchen earlier that night whirling about his head, his heart racing.
"Sheila - Meadow - please - "
"Fine, fine" Sheila interrupted, taking Meadow's hand as she guided her back towards the side door in the kitchen "us fragile women will go wait in the car as the master of the house has requested." She shot back, looking at Jim over her shoulder as she rounded the corner.
Jim didn't have time to argue the fact that this had nothing to do with some sort of gender role ideology - he just loved his family.
Jim ran up the stairs, calling his eldest daughter's name with each step, desperately hoping - praying, even - to hear his child's voice before he got to her room.

"Come on child, let your father overreact" Sheila joked, holding Meadow's hand as they headed outside, down the stairs towards the car.
The two climbed inside, turning the car on and cranking the heat. Sheila locked the doors as she reclined her seat slightly. Sheila reached for the controls of the radio, spinning the dial of the tuner as she tried to get a station with a strong enough signal.
"You have your iPod?" Sheila asked, finally giving up with the radio as she leaned back, closing her eyes with her hands now folded across her chest.
"Obviously." Meadow replied, hooking the iPod up to the car's stereo system. Turning up the volume, the familiar beat of pop music could be heard as far back as the tool shed where, from just beyond the shadows, the woman watched the intruder with her new found daughter.