Killing Tink

Ch. 38

John wanted to kick himself. Why did he always rush things? It was one of the things his wife scolded him about most - impulsiveness to act. Sometimes rash decisions were life or death- quick thinking was virtuous in most situations. Perhaps that's why he often favored finding himself quick to act.

He'd rather march back in there and take the dinner invitation back, but Hope needed to trust him at his word. Taking her a special dinner in her room would have been a grand gesture, but he'd gone and jumped over the edge again.

He took a deep breath and downed a shot of scotch while talking himself out of this endless cycle of second guessing and feeling belittled. Remnants. That's what it was. A sickened state of mind left over from the constant badgering of his parents and his wife.

Smoothing out the disheveled state of his hair with his damp palms he put himself in place. "I'm a man. Why shouldn't I have a guest at the table. It's my damn table. I bought the fucking food. Hope is mine. My family is mine. So shut the hell up and get things ready then!"

By the end of the self pep talk he felt stronger, better. Everything would be fine because he deemed it so. That's how you make things happen in this world. He put on some music and prepared the chicken for the oven. Thin strips which he'd bake slowly to make them soft enough for Hope to chew without being embarrassed. He opened the package of small red potatoes and added some olive oil, basil, and a pinch of salt and pepper and added them to the pan with the chicken and some water. Lastly, baby carrots sprinkled on top just to add a bit of sweetness.

The already tasty looking dish was put into the oven and John took a moment to bleach down the counters. No salmonella for his family. Chicken was a foul dish and easy to prepare. Boring, but Hope needed soft end he didn't need elaborate. A foul dish. Fowl dish. He laughed loudly at his ability to be witty and retuned the gloves to their place under the sink.

With muscle memory he set the table with the families best dishes and fancy linen. He wouldn't disappoint his wife end use everyday wear. Tonight was a celebration.

After just a few minutes the table was perfect he walked himself boldly down the hallway. It was time for Calina to end this ridiculous tantrum and accept the fact that he sometimes had to bring work home. She didn't have to like it, but she would have to accept it. It paid the bills, it bought there home, and if she wanted to continue being married, it was just the way their lives were going to be.

When he opened the door a gust of cold air caused him to pause. Frigid. Like Calina. How she stood the cold day in and day out was beyond him. She lay still on the bed unwilling to even acknowledge that he'd entered.

"Calina. It time to put this whole silly argument to bed.  I know how you felt about Alice. I've taken care of it. She won't be round anymore. Hope is having dinner with us tonight. All of us. We need to pull this family back together. You'll wear your blue sweater. Nothing red. There will be no power moves and no negotiations. I'll help Sophie get ready while you set your mind straight."

He quickly and firmly shut the door letting out a deep breath. Good then. Everything was put in the open. He'd drag her there if she didn't make a move to get ready. He could handle the silent treatment. Maybe it would even make dinner more tolerable without all the chatter and disappointing clicks her mouth made when he took any initiative.

A small tingle of excitement was building. This would bring them all together. Sophie would be happy again. Mommy, daddy, and a new friend all sharing a warm meal.  It was just what she needed to back to her giggling self.

Standing outside her door he paused. He could hear her in there, her high pitch whispers caressing his ears. Her and those silly dolls always dreaming about being grown up and famous. He imagined her and the dolls sitting at a table poring cups of invisible tea and holding up their pinkies.

He stood there. His arm unwilling to do what he commanded. Open the door. Turn the handle. He squeezed his eyes shut and finally his arms moved but instead of jutting out toward the door they covers his ears. He remembered the screaming.

Him touching Alice. More than touching. His wife battering his head and back as she yelled for him to stop, Alice crying, his wife yelling. The sounds crushing him as his inner lust took over and he pushed harder. 

His arms swinging and hands hitting his wife over and over while nothing else in the world filtered in. And Sophie. Sophie standing in the hallway screaming. Screaming and screaming as he dragged Alice back to the cage.

His arms grabbing Sophie, shaking her. Telling her to stop screaming but it just kept coming. Raspy screams with jagged hiccup breaths between them. His hand striking her cheek and her frozen in a state of panicked screaming that would never stop. Him carrying Sophie to the bathroom. Her clawing and screaming as he held her in the tub as it filled with water.

In the hallway he fell to his knees. Flashes of his precious daughters face blank and her mouth open in a torturous never ending snarl framed by blue black lips.

"No! No. No." He screamed and clawed at his eyes. Alice. Alice had done it. Calling the fixed memories to come back the way he'd organize them he spoke them into existence. His wife had been fine. Pissed but fine. Shouting at him to get out of the house. He left.  Yes. That's right. When he got home Alice had killed his wife. She'd drown Sophie and left her in the tub for him to find.

Those memories swirled together. His hands and Alice's hands around Sophie's neck pushing her below the water. Like a series of drawings changing on a post it note pad as you flipped through ---it back and forth they went as he smacked the sides of his head to clear them out.

"Daddy?  Is that you?"  Her voice. Sophie.

He pulled himself back to a standing position. Sophie needed him. He had always been there for her.

"It's me Sophie. We have a special dinner planned. I brought you a new friend. And I'm going to help you get ready in a pretty dress. It's going to be a good night Sophie. Daddy always takes care of you doesn't he?"

Things finally making sense and his thought collected he stepped through the door and into his daughters open arms. Hope was here. Everything was going to be alright."

She giggled as he lifted her from the bed. His hands delicately brushing her soft curls. He tried to unzip the dress she was wearing but the zipper was embedded and stuck and he didn't want to rip the delicate fabric. Sophie whined as a lock of her hair snagged in the brush and fell into his lap.

"Daddy's sorry Sophie. All done. You look beautiful. Perfect for meeting a new friend. Let's go, you can be first at the table. A special happy surprise for your new friend Hope."