A Mountainside Cabin Affair

"Frank, please keep your fingers out of the queso bowl. It's communal, you know," said Rita as she sat down next to her husband on the black leather sectional. Henry and Nora should be back any minute from their "walk" and she didn't want them to see what a pig she had to deal with on a daily basis: greasy brown hair, food-stained clothes, mud-covered boots, and the manners to match. It had been years since the four of them had been together at the old cabin without any of the kids there to bother them - four years and three months, actually. That was the last time they managed to work around hectic schedules and get babysitters at the same time.

"Hon, you think we should go look for them? They've been gone a long time now," Frank asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"Uh, I don't know. How long do you think it's been? They must be done talking by now. Will you check the porch and see if they're out there?" Rita requested, realizing that night was setting in. It hadn't been too long, had it? Nora was just in the kitchen venting to her a few minutes ago. Flipping through DVDs under the entertainment center, she searched for something exciting that they would all enjoy. She had trouble picking between genres, though. They all liked a good horror movie, but maybe action was more daring and erotic? Or perhaps a romantic comedy would put them in a playful mood? It had been so long since they had last been alone together and she wasn't sure how to approach things this time. They had all agreed on another R-rated vacation since they were kid-free, but with Henry and Nora fighting so viciously there was no telling what would unfold tonight. Suddenly, Frank returned, distracting her from herself once more.

"I don't see them anywhere. They're not on the porch, their car is still here, and I don't see them down the road either," he noted.

"Did you check the back porch?" Rita wondered.

"No, hold on," mumbled Frank as he rushed toward the sliding doors that led out to a deck which spanned the whole length of the cabin, complete with stone tables and shading umbrellas, a tall metal cabinet full of gear for the snowy months up here with the kids, a fancy grill for cookouts, and a retro-style refrigerator designated to beer, wine, and juice boxes. Frank gazed around, saw no one, and then proceeded to turn the deck lights on and descend the wooden staircase to the backyard. Henry and Nora always went for walks to hash out arguments, but they were generally short strolls and, despite what Rita may think, Frank knew they'd been gone for about an hour now.

He'd been checking his emails when they stormed out the door, pretending he wasn't listening to their bickering. They had stepped onto the porch at 6:57 PM and it was now only a few minutes before 8 PM. Reaching the last step, he turned to check the gated area beneath the deck, equipped with a shower stall, pool gear, a hot tub, and sliding doors that led into the basement. He unlatched the gate and looked around. No one. He then walked back around the stairs to investigate the backyard. They weren't lounging in the pool or in the chairs surrounding it and he didn't see a soul by the firepit either. Beginning to worry, he headed back to the staircase. He was about to take the first step when a thought invaded his mind: The basement?

He went back through the wooden gate and walked over to the sliding doors, pulling out his keys. They each kept their own sets of keys to the cabin. Unlocking the door, he slid it open and stepped inside. Searching for the light switch, an eerie feeling suddenly engulfed him. He felt as though he wasn't alone in the dark room. Flipping the switch, Frank turned as light illuminated what served as the game room, stocked with a pool table, dart board, air hockey table, and dozens of board games. It had taken years for them to acquire all of this, years for them to even afford to split the cost of the cabin itself.  

He looked around, nothing seeming out of place, until he noticed a hand on the floor on the other side of the pool table. That was all he could see from where he stood. There was someone behind the table on the floor. He jumped at the sight, his stomach churning and his heart pounding. Frank ventured across the room and rounded the pool table to find...a lifesize doll that Nora's grandmother had stitched for her kids when they were little. Its name was Willow. It had golden blond hair, beedy black eyes, and it wore a red checkered dress and a creepy smile. He had forgotten they'd stored it down here due to the fact that it scared the hell out of their kids. He thought they'd put it away in the closet down here, but he was just relieved it wasn't Nora. Or Henry.

When Frank arrived at the main level, he slid open the back door and re-entered the cabin to hear laughing coming from the living room. Nora and Henry must be back. He closed the door and strode through the sun room with all of its wicker chairs and fake florals to the living room. When he entered, he only saw Henry splayed out on the leather couch, laughing at the flatscreen on the wall across from him. 

"Hey, man. Where are the wives?" Frank asked confusedly. Henry smiled, his long, dark hair tousled and his clothes covered in dirt and leaves. His smile was daunting and his eyes were bright and curious, like that of a child's.

"They're out on the porch. They decided to split a bottle of Pinot," he replied nonchalantly.

"Oh, okay. You and Nora sort things out?" Frank wondered aloud.

"Well...yeah. We're separating for a bit after we get back. That's the plan as of now, at least. We agreed that by the end of the weekend if we feel like we don't need it, we'll call it off," Henry said stiffly. 

Frank nodded and wandered to the front door, pulling it open across the dark hardwood floors. He passed through the threshold and saw Nora and Rita sitting in the old rocking chairs on the far end of the porch. He started towards them only to realize that their heads were bowed and their wine glasses were broken on the floor in front of them. Reaching them, he came to another realization that sent him into complete shock. Their eyes were closed. Blood leaked from their necks down onto their shirts and yoga pants. Frank stumbled, his heart falling into his stomach as he shook and began to wail. Rita's wavy, bright red hair was dripping with blood. She had been struck in the back of the head before her throat was slit. Frank couldn't care less about Nora at the moment, but he stood up, trying to keep himself from falling over, and made his way back to the door to alert Henry and send for help. As he was about to enter the cabin, Henry stepped outside, beer in hand.

"How's that for a couple's vacay?" Henry chuckled, punching Frank square in the nose. Everything went black.

When Frank awoke on the black leather sectional, his hands were tied with paracord so tightly he couldn't feel his fingers. He tried to put his feet on the floor to escape, but they were tied as well. His head was pounding from the blow and he was certain his nose was broken. He could feel blood still dripping from it. Glancing around, his eyes found Henry sitting in the recliner in the corner of the room with yet another drink in his hand.

"So can I tell you a little secret, Franky?" Henry whispered, "Do you remember the winter that we all came up here and had that little rendezvous the year before Max was born?"

"What about it?" Frank managed to respond, his teeth clenched as he struggled to find a way out of the ties so he could strangle his best friend.

"Well, buddy. I had Max tested last month. Guess what? He's yours, not mine. Four years of doubt and I finally have my answer," Henry hissed.

"Henry, we both used protection that weekend. If something happened, we were too drunk to notice. But we both saw the evidence in the trash can the next morning. How can you attack me, kill Nora, kill my wife for that?" Frank responded weakly, tears rolling down his cheeks as he recalled the sight of the women slumped over in the rocking chairs.

"Oh, Frank, they're not dead. That was just makeup. I just slipped some sedatives in the wine before I brought it to them. I wanted to scare you, and you fell for it. We've been doing this for years, Frank, but we vowed to only ever do so under each other's supervision. When I got the results from Max's test, though, I had a gut feeling there was something more to this. So let me ask you, you disgusting swine, did you or did you not have an affair with my wife?" Henry howled, deserting the chair to tower over Frank as he struggled to escape.

"Makeup? What the hell, Henry? No, I didn't. I promise you. You're my best friend. Or you were up until I walked out on the front porch a few minutes ago," Frank returned sharply. 

"Oh, Franky, you're no friend of mine. Not anymore. But can I tell you another dirty little secret?" Henry spit. 

"What, Henry?" Frank asked, his blood beginning to boil. What kind of person would play a prank like that on their best friend? Could Frank even believe him that it was a prank? Would he even live to find out? Henry was obviously drunk by now. He'd been chugging beers and now whiskey ever since they'd arrived at the cabin. His eyes were horrifying to look at. Frank had never seen him so angry, so...murderous.  

"Whether you went behind my back or not, I've been slipping it to Rita every other weekend since that first trip out here. At the Motel 6 on 42nd street, in the back of that little Honda at her office during her lunch break, and even once on that futon in your basement. Your wife's been after me ever since that night and I'm sorry, Frank, but who could say no to an ass like that?" Henry grinned. If Frank could strangle the basket case right now, he'd be all in. He was shaking with fury now, gritting his teeth, and pushing as hard as his own physical force would allow against his restraints.

"I'm sorry, bud. I mean I did try to put a stop to it a few months ago, but she just kept coming back for more. How could I say no?" Henry taunted, leaning closer. Frank stopped pushing and reared his head up, smashing his forehead into Henry's nose, causing him to fall back into the coffee table. Frank waited a few seconds for Henry to regain himself and probably kill him before he started wiggling toward the edge of the couch to reach the large pocket knife he'd noticed on the table a few minutes ago. Luckily it was on the corner nearest him and Henry had fallen to the far side.

As Frank continued to wiggle, he heard a bang outside, and then footsteps. Suddenly, someone was slamming the front door open. He strained to see who it was, but he was facing the back of the house.  

"Frank?" he heard Rita's voice behind him. "What the hell is going on? What is all over me and Nora? Is this blood?" she asked as she hurried over and assessed the situation.

"Rita, untie me, please. Henry's gone freaking nuts. Where is Nora?" Frank coughed.

"She's coming. She was trying to clean up the broken glass. What's up with Henry? What happened?" she cried.

Rita cut the ties and helped Frank up from the couch. Just then, Nora burst through the front door, spying Henry blacked out on top of the coffee table.

"Henry?" she called. She rushed over to him, kissing his cheek and trying to wake him.

"He attacked me, Nora. He thinks your youngest is my son, not his. I'm fairly sure he was going to kill me. He had me thinking he killed you and Rita, too," Frank explained. She turned to look at him as he spoke.

"Well...he is yours, Frank," she replied coldly, "Max is your son and I'm almost positive that Charlotte is Henry's daughter. I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to ruin your marriage or mine, but I started doing the math a long, long time ago," she continued.

"Charlotte is...Henry's? How?" Frank shouted, turning to his wife.

"Rita, I think you need to talk to him. I'm not going to enlighten him about your..." Nora trailed off, a jealous look manifesting on her flawless, but still dirt and blood-stained porcelain face. She quickly averted her eyes and set her focus on her husband again.

"Frank. Frank, I promise you, I love you. I-I-" Rita stammered.

"It's true, isn't it? You've been having an affair with Henry since that weekend? For four years?" Frank bellowed, pushing her away and leering over Henry's unconscious body.

"I love you, Frank. I-I'm so sorry. It wasn't supposed to happen, but-"

"But what? It was more than once, wasn't it? How do you make the same mistake every other weekend for almost half a decade?" he growled.

"Well...yes, but I tried to stop it. I tried so hard. He just wouldn't stop. He wouldn't leave me alone," she sobbed, tears streaming down her face. 

Frank's entire world had been rampaged that night. Everything he knew was suddenly one massive lie. What was supposed to be a getaway with their best friends was now one huge life-altering revelation of secrets, betrayals, and almost attempted murder. Henry had been his best friend since college. How could someone do this to their best friend for four years? And now apparently his infant daughter wasn't his, but a boy he treated like a nephew was his son?

Shaking uncontrollably, his mind swimming, his heart on the verge of exploding, and his tear ducts reluctantly opening the gates of despair, Frank stomped out of the room and down the hall to one of the guest rooms. He always kept his gun in his suitcase when they travelled, just in case. He wasn't sure what his plan was, but he knew he needed to feel in control of his life now, as he had just discovered that he'd been blindsided for four of the most important years of it.

He checked the chamber to ensure that it was loaded and retreated back to the living room, armed and ready for whatever may come. When he returned, Henry was awakening slowly. He was tossing and turning, grabbing his stomach and rotating to vomit in a bucket Nora had fetched from the kitchen. Frank could see blood escaping along with other liquids. Probably alcohol poisoning. He approached the table and aimed the gun at the side of Henry's head, adjusting so that he was in his former friend's field of view. 

"F-Frank, what are you doing?" Henry managed, still coughing and trying to keep the fluids down. Nora froze in her spot next to her husband and Rita stood slowly from her seat on the couch, tiptoeing toward Frank with fear in her eyes.

"Honey. Frank. Please don't do this. I'm so sorry for all of this, but you can't. Don't do this to the kids. Please, Frank," she pleaded desperately. She couldn't let her husband become a murderer and she couldn't let Henry's children or Nora and Frank's child go through that nightmare either.

"I'm done listening to you, Rita. I'm done listening to all of you. My wife betrayed me for years, had a child with another man and made me think it was mine. And now I find out I have a child with my best friend's wife and I didn't even know. How am I supposed to process all of this? My best friend almost murdered me and made me think he'd killed my wife along with his. What am I supposed to do here, Rita? I want out. I want out of all of this," Frank cried as he perfected his aim, squeezed his eyes shut, and pulled the trigger. Nora and Rita screamed.

The night was cold and breezy and eerily quiet for a forested mountainside. Frank stuffed his suitcase in the trunk of his black Tahoe and climbed into the driver's seat, sweat dripping from his forehead. He turned the car on and began driving back down the rocky road that led up to the vacation house. He wasn't sure where he was going or what his plan was. All he knew was that he needed to go to his children, his actual children. At least their son, Percy, was his. Max and Percy. He thought of Charlotte for a moment, wishing he could say the same about her. He loved that little girl with all of his heart, but he knew he couldn't bare to care for her knowing whose daughter she was.

Just then, it hit him. He had just killed his best friend and abandoned their wives with the body at the cabin. Unable to find a word to match the feeling he was experiencing, he turned the radio on and kept driving, tossing his wedding band out into the woods as he cruised, ready for a new life without lies.