I took Victoria’s Honda Civic to the minimart a mile away because it’s the only place that’s open on Thanksgiving and Adam realized we didn’t have enough butter. (That declaration scared me, considering I bought an entire four-pack of butter last week.) He picked up the turkey and other groceries yesterday, so our refrigerator is stocked. He got up early this morning and has been seasoning the turkey and hovering over it like it’s a newborn baby
He looked so cute this morning while he was rubbing oil and butter and sage and rosemary all over the turkey while singing to himself. I watched him for a moment, feeling a rush of affection until I remembered what I had read in Victoria’s diary. This is all an act—the real Adam is an angry, violent, and jealous man.
And then I ran out of the house without even saying goodbye.
When I return with the butter, he’s just getting the turkey in the oven. He straightens up and gives me a hug and kiss, which I accept rather stiffly. But he’s so excited about the turkey that he doesn’t seem to even notice.
“Turkey is good to go,” he says.
“Great.” I look up at his smiling face. “Hey, it’s… um, it’s too bad your parents can’t be here.”
I watch his expression carefully. “Yeah, well,” he says. “They like to go to my uncle’s house. He’s one of those outgoing people who loves to entertain and he makes this huge spread. That way my mom doesn’t have to cook.”
Is he lying? I want to shake him and ask if his parents are dead. But would he really make up a whole story about their Thanksgiving plans? Because if he did, he has serious problems.
And what about that phone call the night of the big storm? If he wasn’t talking to his mother, who was he talking to?
I tried to find Adam’s book, All in the Family. I’m curious if it’s as bad as what Victoria described. But I couldn’t find any copies in the house. I even looked at the supermarket but didn’t find any there either. I thought about reading it on my phone but finally decided against it.
I have to end this relationship. Or whatever this thing between us is. I can’t do this anymore to Victoria. And I can’t do it to myself. I don’t know who this man is. The only positive thing I can say is that it doesn’t sound like he was physically abusive to Victoria.
But if I end it with him, will he fire me? I couldn’t entirely blame him. And then what will Victoria do without me? I’m sure she would rather have me around than him taking care of her all the time.
Adam wraps his arms around me and pulls me close to him. He whispers into my hair, “You know what I’m thankful for this year?”
I shake my head.
“I’m thankful for you.” He squeezes me tighter. “I don’t know if I ever really told you how unhappy I was before you showed up here. My life was empty. I mean, I had my writing, but I couldn’t even focus on that.”
“You mean since Victoria’s accident?”
He lets out a long sigh and pulls away from me. “There’s something I should tell you.”
If he tells me his parents are dead, I’m quitting.
“Victoria and I weren’t happy together.” He rubs his hands over his face. “I mean, we were at first. When we were first dating. But after we got engaged, she became a different person. And then after we got married, it got much worse. But… I didn’t see a way out…”
He looks off into the distance. I don’t know what he’s talking about. Victoria described in detail how horrible he was to her. Was he not aware of that at all? Maybe that’s why she seemed different to him.
“Well,” I say, “given how difficult things were, it’s good of you to take care of her like you are.”
He lets out a breath. “Yeah, that’s the thing…” He toys with the turkey baster on the counter. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I wanted to be there for Victoria, but it’s just too hard. I think… after the Christmas holidays, I’m going to start calling some nursing homes in the area. It’s for the best.”
He must see the ashen look on my face, because he quickly adds, “You can keep staying here, obviously. I’m not kicking you out. You can keep working here if you want or find another job. But your room is yours as long as you want it. Or… my room.”
“I… I don’t know,” I murmur. I feel very ill, like I might throw up.
He reaches out to touch my arm, but I yank it away. I don’t want to be near him right now. “I’m going to give Victoria her breakfast,” I mumble.
His brow furrows. “Trust me, Sylvia. This will be for the best. For everyone concerned.”
But I don’t trust him. Not even a little bit.
