The Present

I can’t stand it anymore. It’s literally sweltering, and that is honestly not a word I find myself using...ever. Jack’s at work, but it’s 4:30 so I’m hoping to God that he’ll be home soon. I’ve spent the whole day packing and I-I just can’t stand it anymore. I can’t stand being in this house and looking outside and watching the occasional person walk by, mask-adorned, dragging along a teacup dog that stops to spray some grass every three inches of sidewalk. I mean, I watched the clouds yesterday. I sat in the backyard, while the sun boiled every inch of exposed skin, and watched the clouds drift by. And I can’t stand it anymore. 

All the bags are stuffed. I mean, I filled them to the brim, not because I had to. No. I filled them because I want this to be a long weekend away. I want to be ready just in case Jack acquiesces to my demand for a few more days. Or a week. Two weeks? I mean, Jack hasn’t taken time off from work since...I don’t know, late December like two years ago. His firm carries over vacation time, though, so we could realistically stay at the cottage for a month. 

 Jack’s a lawyer. And yes, I do understand that this is what I was getting myself into by marrying him. But, I like to live in denial; it’s really a nice place once you get used to it. Once you understand its climate and the neighborhood and who’s living next door. My neighbors are just as boring as I am. But they’re also stupid. I think that’s the one thing that sets me apart. 

I own a small restaurant downtown. Well, I guess the heat has made me a liar. I owned a small restaurant downtown. Before you say anything, no, I didn’t relinquish that job to stay at home so Jack could go and do as he pleased while I was stuck with the baby. First of all, I don’t have a baby. I don’t, in fact, ever intend on having a baby. But, I guess I’m only 28. Jack’s 30. We’re both still young. We have time and options. That’s what we tell ourselves, anyway. No, it wasn’t Jack that told me to do anything. We’re equals and we respect each other. No, it’s this virus that did it. And, of course I’m pissed about having to close dine-in eating (because my restaurant is not some fast food place that can just say hey, come to the drive-thru! It’ll be fun!). Who wouldn’t be? But, I understand it. And I am not the kind of person who’s going to deny science and deny professionals. I don’t like the mandate because of what it did to me. But I understand it, and understand that life is worth more than me. 

Unsurprisingly, after a couple months of zero revenue and unrelenting bills, I had to close. There wasn’t any way around it. And I wish there was. I really do. In total I employed 23 people. Now they’re all out on their own. I really liked some of them. No. Most of them. A whole lot. But there was no way around it.

It’s not like we’re low on income. Jack’s still doing fine, but I never understood why the firm kept having him come in to work and then go in to court. Why can’t he work remotely? But, I’m not a lawyer. I considered it at some point, as I’m sure almost everyone has, but it was really the culinary arts, as I like to call them, that gripped my attention.

Jack’s home! Yes!!! I practically jump on him when he comes in the door.

“Somebody’s happy to see me.” I don’t even answer. I just kiss him over and over. “Okay, okay.” He says, surprised at my intense affection. “I see everything’s packed and ready.”

“Yup. I spent the whole day getting everything together.”

“All right. I’m just gonna go get changed and then we can head out.”

“I’ll start loading the car.” Jack heads upstairs to ditch the suit and change into something more comfy for the drive, as I start lugging the suitcases out to the car. Usually Jack would perform the heavier manual labor like this, but I’m so eager to leave that I’m gonna make it as easy as possible for us to get out of here. The cottage is kind of far away...I think three or four hours from home, but it’s nestled in these woods in the foothills and it’s so beautiful and serene and-I just can’t wait.

It’s been a few years since we’ve been up to the cottage, what with both of us having been so busy. That first year we were together though...ugh, I miss those days. We were wildly in love. And that cottage. That cottage is where we spent most of our time. There’s this gorgeous little lake a quarter mile from the cottage and the water is so cool and refreshing...ugh, I love it there. 

I wish we had spent more time together these past few years. There was a time when...I wasn’t sure it was gonna work out. But we’re better now, and this long weekend is just what we’ve needed. Jack comes back downstairs in athletic shorts and a floral-patterned shirt that billows slightly as he walks. He’s wearing a little backpack. It’s kinda weird, though, because I already packed everything. 

I’ll bet it’s my present! Today’s our anniversary after all! I got him a Joe Sakic-signed hockey puck (he’s a huge Avs fan). I know he’ll love it. I don’t have the faintest clue what he got me. He always has been good at keeping secrets. I never expected him to propose, for instance. I think I’m good at keeping secrets too. But not as good as he is.

Two hours into the drive, as we enter the woods, I realize I forgot my phone. Not my primary cell phone. I have that packed away. My old flip phone. My dad gave it to me when I turned eighteen. His number was the first contact in that phone, and he told me if I ever needed anything, ever, he’d be there for me. 

He’s gone now. Cancer. But that phone is sort of how I remember him. Plus, I have some other contacts that I never bothered transferring into my cell phone and I don’t really want to lose them. It’s weird that I forgot it, though. I always bring it with me everywhere. Sometimes I carry it on me. Other times I tuck it away into a bag or something. I don’t know how I could have forgotten it. But, I guess I don’t need it right now. I have Jack with me. He’ll always be there for me.

“So, anyway, the jury put him away. I’m glad too, because the evidence was a little sketchy, but I think it was enough. Well, I guess it must have been enough. Sentencing will be in three weeks, and I intend to get the maximum. That man is sick and twisted and he deserves what he’s gotten. His family didn’t seem to agree, though. His son is like 20 and seemed like a bit of a nut-case. Screaming, just screaming after the conviction. Then, as the courtroom emptied, he was cursing and screaming at me. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. His dad is a murderer and I wouldn’t be surprised if he turned out to be one too.”

It’s 9:18 when we arrive on the lot, and the scene is absolutely magnificent. The white-blue moonlight drifts down between the ever-swaying leaves, creating a sparkling effect in the canopy above. A little ways off, I can see a similar shifting light glinting off the little lake, and my eyes light up. Jack grabs the bags from the trunk as I practically prance along the path towards the porch. 

The porch is a little weathered; the white paint is peeling after years upon years of rain and hail and sunlight (it was built in the forties by Jack’s grandfather). The shutters are a deep brown, almost like chocolate (which is why I always call this place the chocolate cottage, almost always to Jack's chagrin; sometimes my little mannerisms and sayings embarrass him, even when no one’s around, which bothers me a little, but not enough to say or do anything about it). 

The windows are all still intact, though, which is fantastic. I don’t know how safe I would feel with a gaping hole in the side of the house. Oddly enough there are a lot of robberies out in this region of the state. I don’t know who just drives around and robs cottages in the woods, though. I mean, who’s gonna have anything valuable out here? But the windows (and the doors, I must add) are intact, so I’m not worried. 

Clothes are strewn all about the master bedroom, (we are both a bit disorganized, I must confess) but we are unpacked, finally. My clothes are dumped on my side of the bed, and Jack’s, along with that little backpack that I’m now certain contains some kind of present for me, is over on his. It’s almost 10 o’clock. Suddenly, the land-line rings in the living room. Jack runs out to grab it. Ten, twenty seconds later, he’s back.

“Who was it?”

“I don’t know. Someone had the wrong number. Asking for a John Lundgrin. I said, no, this is Jack Adams. Then, he hung up. What kind of a name is John Lundgrin, anyway?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never heard a name like that before. Must’ve been a real weirdo.”

“Definitely. Hey, do you wanna go for a swim?”

“Sure!” I almost yell back. I reach into my suitcase for my bathing suit when Jack’s hand lands on mine. I look up. He shakes his head. 

We run down the dirt path towards the little lake. We’re so excited that I don’t know if either of us locked the door. Or even closed it. I don’t remember being this excited since that first year we were together.

We break through the treeline and are now standing on this little beach. The lake is much bigger than I remember it being, and I can hardly see the little lights from the windows of the cottages across the water and beyond the far shore. The full moon shines brightly, now, almost like a second sun, drowning out the light of the stars about it. Jack takes off his shoes and socks, and I feverishly try to keep up, but I have to untie my shoes, whereas Jack just slips his off (we both know that slipping shoes on and off is how you ruin them quickly, but he never listens). Soon, Jack’s shirt and shorts are on the ground, as I’m just taking my socks off. Then, he takes off his underwear and throws them at me, at which point I recoil and let out a weird little screech, smiling the whole time. I chase him to the water’s edge, but he jumps in, letting out a sort of ecstatic howl at the cold. I take off my shirt and shorts, while he swims up to the shallow section just beyond the beach and watches me. I turn around and tease him, dancing and throwing my head to either side so that my hair sorta flies out and is then yanked back in. With my back still turned towards him, I take off my underwear. Then, I turn to face him, quickly, and jump into the water.

I think I let out a little howl too, because the water is very cold. But soon, I feel his warmth against me and we’re kissing. Somehow, we end up on the beach and I don’t care that we’re out in the open. I don’t care if the whole world sees. I feel like I’m falling in love with Jack again, and I feel pure joy. Well, almost pure joy. I also feel a little bit of guilt, a little bit of sadness, for how I treated him the last few years. We had grown apart, made mistakes, and things had been looking bleak. But now we’re back. I can feel it. And so the joy overtakes me.

Now, we’re back in the cottage, drinking hot coffee in the kitchen, our bodies wrapped in warm, cotton towels. We didn’t even bother grabbing our clothes or putting them on. We had laid there, on that beach, with the freezing water sloshing up and over and around us for ten, fifteen minutes, and now we’re both shivering. But the coffee warms me up, quickly, and it seems to do the same for Jack. Then, he takes me by the hand and leads me back to the master bedroom. He throws all the clothes off the bed and pushes them into the corners of the room. Then, he throws the blanket and the pillows off so that just the sheet is left. He suddenly pulls me along and jumps onto the bed; I fall onto it with him. He takes off his towel and throws it into the corner, and I do the same with mine. He leans in towards me, when, all of a sudden, he holds up his hand.

“Just a second!” He rolls over and grabs the little backpack from off the floor. “Presents first!” 

I roll over as well and root through my bag, finally finding the little present box buried way at the bottom. 

“Can I give you yours, first?” He asks, so sweetly and slyly at the same time, smirking a little as he does so.

“Sure!” I practically yell. I wonder what it’s gonna be. I have no idea. No idea what’s coming. I haven’t felt this excited for anything since...I can’t even remember. I wonder what it’s gonna-

Jack unzips the little backpack and drops my flip phone on the bed.

“What is-” Suddenly, Jack pulls a knife from the same backpack, grabs me by the hair, and presses the cool steel against my throat.

“HOW LONG??!!” He screams. I struggle, trying to pull away or something, but I don’t want to struggle so hard that I slit my own throat. Jack presses the knife harder against my throat, and now it feels as if I’m being cut and choked at the same time.

“HOW LONG???!!!” He screams again.

“How long what?!” I scream back, crying.

“Don’t play dumb!! I’ve read the messages. You praising this Collin Smith for being there when Jack couldn’t and for always knowing what I like and being BETTER than him. Now, answer me before I cut your head off!! HOW LONG??!!”

“I don’t-I don’t know. Five, six months.”

“Five or six months! Is this still going on?!”

“I don’t-”

“ANSWER ME!!!”

“Yes! Yes! But I was gonna end it! It’s just that with the restaurant closed and you were never around-”

“Don’t you dare pin this on me!!” 

“Please, please! You have to understand-”

“Oh I understand all right! I’ve understood for awhile now, and now, I think it’s your turn to understand. That’s why I brought you out here. To get away from it all. To get away from your adultery and this sham-marriage we’ve been living for half a year. I brought you out here to kill you. Then, I’m gonna wrap you up in this sheet and dump you into that lake.”

“Please! Please!” 

“Please! Pease!” He mocks me. Then, he turns the knife so that the point is against my windpipe. For some reason, I think I hear a car door slam outside, so I scream as loud as I can.

“HELP!!! HELP!!!!!” He pushes the knife down into my throat until I can’t scream anymore. Suddenly, I hear a bang! The loudest sound I’ve ever heard. Jack falls over. A massive chunk of his side is gone. Standing in the doorway is none other than Collin Smith.

He walks over to where Jack is writhing on the ground, a pool of red slowly forming around him. 

“You?” Jack asks in a hushed voice, the life quickly leaving him.

Collin turns and looks at me, at the dire state I’m in. At the river of blood leaving my neck. He’s here to save me. That must have been him calling earlier, trying to make sure this was the right cottage. I can feel myself slipping, but I hang on. I hang on, knowing there’s a chance. Then, Collin turns away, nonchalantly, and walks over to Jack.

“You knew my father was innocent.” Then, he blasts Jack’s head off. A quick turn towards me, a passing glance, and he’s gone.