A Stranger In My Home

Chapter 1

"Hey, Julie, come here for a bit," the broad-shouldered man on the living room couch called out to his wife, who was currently doing the dishes.

"What is it?"Julie Gibbons came out of the kitchen with a quizzical look on her face. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled up in a messy bun, tendrils clinging to her cheeks where the water from the sink had splashed her.

"Sit down," he said and patted the seat next to him. She obeyed, sitting down on the edge of the well-worn couch, and her brown eyes fixated on his blue ones. "We're going to have a house guest for a couple of days," he said.

"Who?" Julie asked. It came as no surprise that this was the first she’d heard of it, and she knew better than to question why he had invited someone without checking with her first.

"My cousin Jason. He just got out, and he needs a place to crash."

"What was he in for?" Julie asked carefully. Of course, Derek might have been referring to a stint in rehab, but given her husband’s history, Julie assumed Derek's cousin was an ex-con. She’d never even heard of him having a cousin.

"Never you mind," Derek said, a warning tone in his voice.

"I'll set up the guest room," Julie said and rose from the couch, eager to escape the situation. Derek slapped her backside and leaned back in the couch, guzzling his third beer of the morning.

Julie walked over to the closet in the hallway just opposite the guest room. They had a little shotgun house in New Orleans, painted a shrill pink. It was a bit of an eyesore, but in the neighborhood in which they lived, no-one paid much attention. Their closest neighbor was an old drunk named Hank, whose pit bull lounged about on the steps all day.

Julie had tried to make the little house a home for them over these past eight years they’d been married. She’d found the concept of a shotgun house funny at one point, seeing as how her daddy probably would have taken a shotgun to Derek when he got her pregnant all those years ago. If he’d been alive, that is.

Julie was an orphan. She’d grown up in foster care and when she met Derek in high school, he had seemed to be the answer to all her problems. She would never have to move from house to house – or city to city – anymore. He was her rock. He was built like one, too. All bulging muscles and broad shoulders. He was a big hit on the football team.

Yeah, Derek Gibbons was going places. And he was going to take Julie with him, that’s what they all said in the little town of Pamper, Mississippi. And that was exactly what happened. Derek took them all the way to Louisiana. He finished his first year of college with getting kicked out. It all went downhill from there.

Julie shook out the guest sheet and spread it across the mattress. They didn’t often have company, but when they did, she was supposed to be on her best behavior – act like the perfect little housewife. Appearances were everything.

Julie winced as she reached over to tuck in the edge of the sheet, pulling on a sore muscle in her abdomen. She stood back up and lifted her cotton blouse to check. The bruise was still visible, but it had turned yellow by now, so it would soon be gone. Probably in time for their houseguest’s arrival. Not that he was going to notice. Nobody ever did.

Julie’s hand lingered on her abdomen. There were other marks, the kind that would forever remain unseen. Like the scar tissue on her uterus. Derek wasn’t happy when she got pregnant at 17. He worried he wasn’t going to be able to go to college if he had a wife and child to take care of, and in the middle of a drunken argument, Julie took a tumble down a set of stairs.

He’d apologized profusely the next day, mourned the loss of his unborn child, and Julie had believed him. She loved him, after all. He was her world, and when he asked her to marry him, she was the happiest girl in Pamper.