Chapter 3

Alex slid her forearm over her eyes to shield them from the bright morning sun peeking through window blinds. She drifted in and out of sleep until her alarm sounded. If she didn't have to go to work, she probably would stay in bed all day, wallowing in memories of long-gone times. But now that she was a one-income household, she had no choice but to force herself out of bed and go to work. To add insult to injury, working as a cost accountant certainly didn't liven things up any.

Under protest, she flung her weary legs over the side of the bed and lifted her tired self out. She padded off to the bathroom with her cat tight on her heels.

After swiping her unruly hair from in front of her eyes, she studied her reflection in the mirror. She lightly ran her fingertips over the dark half-circles under her eyes that made her look like a raccoon.

What I'd give for a good night's rest.

She spun around, grabbed the shower curtain, and flung it back. She'd just about climbed into the tub when Lili, her five-year-old chocolate point Siamese, started throwing a holy hissy fit. She looked down at him. He'd propped himself up on the edge of the tub and leaned over it, staring wide-eyed at the floor of the tub. His tail puffed up as round as the Alaska pipeline. Curiously, she leaned forward to see what caused the commotion. Sheer panic shot through her veins. She screamed and jumped back.

Once she caught her breath, she leaned forward to take another look at the largest spider she'd ever seen. Its enormous size was such that even Lili didn't want anything to do with it, and spider hunting was normally one of his favorite hobbies.

"Well, Lili, what are we going to do about this?" she asked as she slipped back into her robe to provide a layer of protection between her and the dangerous creature in her tub.

Her fear of spiders hadn't diminished at all through the years. Snakes, okay. Spiders - no way. She shuddered.

She considered turning on the water to simply wash it down the drain but decided against it, knowing the creature would surely clog it.

She shot off to the kitchen and in her frenzy fumbled through the cupboard. Once she located her large spaghetti pot, she dashed into the living room to get her hardcover copy of War and Peace, the heaviest book she owned. She returned to the bathroom and carefully eased the pot over the top of the spider, and then set the book on top of the pot so the spider couldn't escape.

Proud of herself, she looked down at Lili, who'd watched the entire show. "We'll just have Peter take care of this tonight. I'll call and tell him to bring the 20-gauge shotgun for this one."

She sighed. Not too long ago, she had a husband to take care of - protect her from these sorts of things.

Still, in need of a shower, Alex reluctantly forced herself to use the master bathroom, despite the lingering reminders of Sam.

The faint aroma of Sam's aftershave swept through her nostrils as she stepped through the doorway. She paused and inhaled deeply in an attempt to make the aroma stronger. It didn't work. Sadness rippled through her. Her husband's scent was fading, and she could do nothing about it. On one hand, she couldn't bear the reminders of him; on the other hand, she couldn't bear the fact they were disappearing altogether.

She hurried through her shower, slapped on some makeup, dried her hair, and dressed. Everywhere she turned, a memento or memory of her husband surfaced. His bathrobe still hung on a hook on the back of the door, his razor rested on the countertop, and his watch and wedding band still lay in a ceramic dish next to the sink.

She picked up the ring and slid it onto her thumb as she recalled the day she'd slid it onto his finger. It was the happiest day of her life, and she had been sure they'd live a long happy life together. Fate had stepped in and corrected her.

Through cloudy eyes, she stared at the gold band. The hollow beat of her heart echoed in her ears, snapping her out of her trance. She pulled the ring from her thumb, pressed her lips to it, and then placed it back in the ceramic dish.

Stepping back, she gave herself a final once over in the full-length mirror. Then, she raked her hands through her thick hair, drawing her long, loose brown curls to the back of her head where she inserted a large gold barrette to hold them in place. She stared at her reflection for a moment longer, anticipating her mundane day at work.

***

Alex had been working as a cost accountant at Boat Lift Inc., a manufacturing company known worldwide for its boat hoists, for nearly eight years now. She'd landed the job right out of college. Though entering part and labor numbers in the costing software all day wasn't a very exciting job, it paid the bills and provided her with health insurance. Coverage she couldn't afford to lose now that Sam was gone and city insurance was no longer an option.

She glanced at the clock. It was nearly four-thirty. She peeked at the clock again and wondered if the minute hand was working.

The Human Resource Director's voice echoed in Alex's head. "Working here, do you ever feel like we died and didn't go to heaven?"

If the HR Director didn't say that to her at least one hundred times, she didn't say it once.

Finally, the end-of-the-day work whistle blew. She sprang from her office chair and hustled to her SUV. She needed to run a couple of errands before going home to prepare dinner for Peter and herself.

First, she'd stop at the grocery store to pick up something for supper. Since Sam's death, she and Peter got together every Wednesday night. This time of year, Peter played softball on Mondays, volleyball on Tuesday, poker with the guys on Thursday, and on Wednesdays, he endured his sympathy dinner with her.

She looked forward to the Wednesday dinners with Peter, not only because she enjoyed his company, but also because of the overwhelming loneliness that came along with weekday evenings. Too much time alone meant too much time to reflect on the past.

On the weekends, she spent time with the couples she and Sam used to hang out with. Though they didn't do extravagant or super-exciting things, watching movies or having dinner, just being with them was what she needed to get through. However, at times, since her husband's death, she couldn't help but feel like a fifth wheel.

Alex stared intently into the frozen food case, looking for the Tombstone half-and-half pizza, one-half pepperoni for herself, and one-half supreme for Peter.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Mrs. Krueger, her parents' old nosey neighbor, rapidly approaching. Alex cringed. She knew what was coming. It would be the sympathetic head tilt followed by the "How are you holding up?" question.

The woman narrowed the gap between them.

Yep, here it comes.