Chapter three

 

Chapter three

 

As Trisha pulled her economy sized SUV into the driveway she sighed and turned off the ignition. She always felt her good spirits wash away when she came to the house that never really felt like home.

            James had bought the house a year after Amelia was born. She was deliriously happy during that time. James had started creating a name for himself and she was living the life that any woman would have wanted. She   was a stay at home mother with a successful husband and a bank account to envy.

            As she gingerly stepped down from the high cab her heels clipped against the whitewashed asphalt driveway. The house was gorgeous in appearances. A pristine, green yard with orderly rows of bright flowers wrapped around the expansive house. Trisha had been given the job of hand picking the exterior color of the house during the first stages of remodel and after weeks of looming over paint swabs and test strips she had finally decided on a robin’s egg blue. The color stood out against the white trim and white railing on the wrap around deck.

            She didn’t hesitate as she walked through the grand oak doors into the entrance of the house. She felt different today. She knew that she wasn’t going to be seeing Ms. Marsh after today. She knew that things were not going to be the same. A smile crept to her lips again as she walked out of the hot summer air and into the cool air of the Spilling mansion.

            The lights were very dim compared to the mid July sun outside and it took a few minutes for her eyes to completely adjust. She could hear a trickle of laughter coming from the den. The room was usually only used for holidays and special events. She stealthfully set her keys down in a small glass bowl that rest on the table by the door. She held her breath as the sound of metal against glass chimed its way to her ears.

            She was afraid that whoever was in the other room would hear her but the laugher didn’t stop, it instead picked up and turned into a squeal of delight. Trisha slipped off her heels and rests them on the cool tile below her feet. Now satisfied that she could enter the room soundlessly she crept towards the doorway, her padded feet silent against the granite tile.

            She stuck her head into the doorway. Amelia was on her back in the middle of the room. A sea of light white shag carpet surrounded her and from the other side of her a tan head poked up. Someone from the other side of the room gave a quick whistle. The tan puppy’s ears perked up on each side of its head and with a sharp bark it bounded over Amelia and across the room. Amelia gave another shriek of delight.

            Trisha’s eyes followed the wiggling puppy across the room, her head traveling further into the room as she did so. She held in a sharp intake of breath as her eyes landed on James. He was resting on the very modern whit sectional sofa. The puppy jumped up with its front paws resting on his knees.

            Trisha heard James give out a small laugh and he reached down to scratch the puppy behind the ear. Trisha didn’t know what to think. James had always said that he didn’t want a dog. They were too messy and would chew and pee on everything in sight. He had actually called them “destructive, flea ridden fur balls” when Trisha had asked for one the year she got pregnant with Emmy.

            “Mommy!” She heard Amelia laugh. She pasted a smile to her face as her daughter bounded up to her, her hair and green bows bouncing.

            “We got a puppy!” She laughed as she grabbed Trisha’s hand and dragged her into the room.

            James gently brushed the puppy into the floor and stood up as he saw Trisha walk into the room. A small smile played at the ends of his lips.

            “Hello love.” He smiled as she was dragged to him by Amelia. As they came to a stop Emmy let go of her mother’s hand and swooped down to pick up the puppy. Both child and puppy seemed very pleased. Trisha’s stomach became knotted. She knew what was coming next. It was always the same thing.            As if by repetition after a rampage, James would turn into the man whom she had originally fallen in love with. He would be all charm and charisma, and just like the people around town she usually fell for it. He would make excuses for his actions. He was stressed at work and he had a lot of on his shoulders seemed to be his favorite.

            She tried to hide her tension but James must have noticed the stiffness of her shoulder or her apprehensive stare because her frowned then and held his hands out in a pleading gesture.

            “I’m sorry Trish,” He spoke softly. “I over reacted.” He sighed then and looked up into her eyes.

            “I have been working on a big project and things have been really rough on me.” He stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. This was a trick that he used to use on her in college. She used to find it adorable and would forgive him instantly. Over the last few years she came to loath it. It made him look like a young boy who was on the verge of throwing a temper tantrum. She imagined him on the floor kicking and screaming and the thought made her giggle.

            James noticed the smile and took it as a sign that she had forgiven him. He reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into an embrace. He was at least a full head taller then her and her face went into his chest.

            “I don’t know what I would do without you Trish.” He breathed into her hair. She could smell the expensive cologne that he always wore. On all but the worst days the pungent smell masked the odor of whisky that dripped from his pores.

            “I have a surprise for you.” He said in an overly sweet voice. She was surprised at this. He usually did his “ I am sorry routine” for about ten minutes and as soon as he was satisfied that he had made accurate amends he usually left in a hurry, off to some meeting or another. She lifted her head away from his chest and looked up at him as she tried to keep the suspicion from her eyes.

            “I have cancelled all of my meetings tonight and I have called Rosa in on her day off.” He explained. “I will be paying her overtime to keep Emmy occupied while you and I have a nice meal together.” He finished as he planted a soft kiss on her cheek.

            Trisha knew his game well by this point but she was surprised at how well he was playing the game tonight. For a second she almost believed him. Then she remembered all the times he had said he would change and all the times he had proved himself wrong. She thought about the way his hands groped her body as she fought to stay awake and the way her brain was screaming for him to stop. He took what wasn’t his to take. He was a politician and his words meant nothing.

            “That is sweet of you dear.” She said as she forced herself to look pleased by the idea of spending the rest of the evening with him. He usually spent most of his time at home in his office. He would come down to eat supper and then his nightly tonic before bed.

            “I think we have a roast that I can fix you tonight.” She smiled up at him. She knew that within a few days he would be back to his old tricks. You can drag the dog out of a fight but you can’t take the fight out of a dog. She would have to take care of her problem tonight and her only problem seemed to be James.

            “My favorite.” James replied.

Reviews

[Marie]

This chapter is better than the previous chapter, which I also read but did not comment on. You are obviously getting a lot of critical help with this, more than I can give you. I have read some of your other chapters & will comment later when I get Time.

[MoriartyMesa]

Since I am backtracking (the only way I read). I am liking your style.

[gombeggar]

the story moves forward...hmm...may have to re-read this in full

[KAOlmsted]

Don't panic. I like the first paragraph. *laugh* I like it because it gives me some insight into what Trisha feels when she pulls up to that house and parks. I used to get the same feeling when I heard my ex-husband's footsteps on the stairs. That "oh man, here we go" feeling. So this is a very believable emotion for me and I felt like I could relate to your protagonist. Well done for that.

I am a tiny bit confused as to why Trisha felt the need to walk into the den so stealthily. Did she not recognize the laughter as her own daughter's? I have an 8 year old daughter, and you could put that kid in a room full of kids and I could pick her out in a New York second just by the sound of her laughter. And, not for nothing, but I think I would like to see Trisha have more thoughts about her daughter, in that she is going to be killing this kid's father, whom Amelia so clearly loves. He is never abusive toward the child, and he clearly loves her back. That Trisha doesn't have this inner conflict, again, does not make her a very sympathetic character in my opinion.

I think my main bit of advice for you in this chapter, because it is a relatively good chapter, is to pay very close attention to your narration. Again. (Still?) I think if you put Trisha in the driver's seat and stop taking her out of the action to TELL me what SEEMS to be happening around her, you will improve this, and the previous chapters greatly. Pepper your prose with internal dialogue that comes directly from Trisha in a more visceral manner; I want to feel her feelings.

There, now that didn't hurt a bit, did it. *smile* The scene plays out nicely; I like the apology, which we all know is bullshit. (And, again, here, with a few choice bits of internal dialogue, you can trust your readers to come to the very real conclusion that this apology is, indeed, bullshit...it doesn't need to be spelled out.) That he buys the kid a puppy is probably going to become a major thorn in Trisha's side...it won't be long before he blames her for the messes that little guy is so obviously going to make. So I see conflict approaching. I still don't see why this guy needs to die, though.

Thanks for sharing this, Tabitha. And thanks for taking this constructive criticism in the manner in which it is offered: to help you be the very best writer you can be. I'm pulling for you.

-kimmer

[Tabitha t]

the thing about the daughter not being recognized is something that i had noticed as well and am in the act of repairing this chapter so i am glad you noticed it as well and reviewed this chapter. I am working on inner monologues. Not my strongest suit but i am working on it. Thank you for reviewing and I hope you continue to do so because i find them very helpful and valuable

[KAOlmsted]

My pleasure. You've got some pretty good bones to flesh out. Inner dialogue gets easier the more you do it. Just remember: this is Trisha's story...let her tell it. I have some writing of my own to do this week, but I will certainly get to your next chapter just as quick as I can. Keep up the hard work.
-kimmer

[Tabitha t]

Thanks!

[Craig2591]

Her actions and thoughts are very believable. She's finally onto all of his tricks! She won't be fooled anymore! I like how you leave the reader wondering what she's up to.

[Olivia Marie]

This is great :) I like the conflicts in her mind between his tricks and her reactions. I enjoyed reading it :)