Author's Note: GOODBYES AND PURSUITS or 33 misfortunes of Elena Fisher-Drake, because that's exactly the way I felt about it while working on it.
This was such a fun chapter to write!
CHAPTER 3
GOODBYES AND PURSUITS
Elena Fisher-Drake stood by the island of the now empty kitchen and beheld the view in front of her. The whole room seemed much bigger without furniture in it; brick fireplace gaped with its hearth scraped-clean and empty; morning sun streamed through the sliding back door, leaving narrow sheets of light where dining room table used to stand.
Expanses of space and possibilities for someone... yet it was not what Elena saw.
No. Beyond naked walls and deafening silence, she saw years of happiness - busy, rushed life generously spruced up with moments of pure bliss and occasional heartache.
Hers and his and wholesomely theirs. A rainbow of marital joy after years of failures.
Her hazel eyes lightly glistened, but Elena found herself smiling. She didn't know why she felt the urge to come there when she woke up that morning. She had plenty of other things to occupy her time with.
To say goodbye?
It was silly and sentimental. But she was there anyway.
Elena glided her hand along the length of the counter, which had been silent witness to countless dinners, conversations and spur-of-the-moment love making.
She walked across the living room, down the creaky panels of the floor and into the corridor, feeling a sudden nudge inside, as their daughter stretched or kicked or punched or maybe all of the things combined. By then, Elena was so used to the sensation, that half the times she didn't even notice it as it quickly became part of her everyday life.
Elena bit her lip and, without looking back, headed toward the exit. However bittersweet it was to stand there, in the desolation of their home, despite her fears and doubts, Elena knew the best was yet to come. So she stepped outside, closed the door behind her and locked it one last time, trying not to dwell too much on the finality of that moment.
The little grey hybrid in the driveway greeted her with a wink of headlights, but, as Elena was about to get in the driver seat, she was stopped by a sudden voice and a sound of steps tapping rushed beat on the pavement across the street.
"Elena, dear, oh wait a moment, I haven't seen you in such a long time!"
Elena briefly covered her eyes and winced, recognizing the voice. She had nowhere to hide and Nate wasn't there to cover up for her, so she forced a smile and turned around.
"Mrs. Atkinson," Elena sighed as the middle aged lady huffed and puffed, crossing the distance between them.
"Oh lord almighty, look at yourself - you're about ready to pop, aren't you?" Mrs. Atkinson exclaimed gloatingly, surrounded by a cloud of nauseating floral perfume.
Elena's nose scrunched up at both the intoxicating scent and the words that felt just as toxic.
"Three more months actually. So you haven't seen the biggest of me yet," she answered sourly and pressed on the door handle, flinging it open.
"How's Nate? I hope everything is good between you two? New baby is such a tough test for any relationship!" Mrs. Atkinson gasped with fake concern.
"We're fine. He's just on a work trip," Elena threw her bag into the car, hoping the gesture was loud enough of a cue to signal the conversation wasn't going to last much longer.
"It sure is a shame you two decided to move! Do you know who'll be the new owners?"
"A young couple," Elena said vaguely.
"Oh dear- well that is good- I always said that..."
She kept going on and on about this and that, but Elena half listened. Blankly she stared at the lady, who seemed exasperated by quick walking and the intensifying heat - heavy makeup on the wrinkled face was starting to melt. Soon, Elena grew tired of pretending to listen. The conversation was burdening from the start and Elena glanced at her watch.
"...surely you'd like to come over and have some tea, for old times' sake? Come on sweetheart, I have some blueberry muffins."
Mrs. Atkinson looked expectantly, waving her hand for Elena to follow - a plump venomous spider, trying to lure prey into her web.
Elena internally shuddered at the prospect.
"Oh no, Mrs. Atkinson, I'm sorry, I have an appointment on the other side of the bridge, I gotta go."
Disappointment reflected on the neighbor's face and, giving Elena's figure a visual once-over while noticeably straightening her own shoulders and pulling stomach in, she added conspiratorially, "well, I don't think you should have muffins anyway, dear - that baby weight sure is hard to shake off, and your husband didn't marry a fat woman, I'm sure he'd expect you to bounce back right away and it already looks like it will be quite an undertaking!"
Elena measured Mrs. Atkinson with a stone-hard look. She was used to their neighbor's impudent ways, but this was beyond audacious even by her questionable standards!
"Well, have a great day Mrs. Atkinson," Elena said and turned to get in the car.
"Oh, I almost forgot to ask - who are you having?"
"A girl."
"Oh really? - I'm sure Nate wanted a boy, all men do and…"
"You know what-," Elena almost snapped, but quickly reigned herself in and didn't give in to the provocation - this was exactly what the old crone wanted, so, suppressing an eye roll, Elena buckled up her seat belt and said almost calmly, "I really am in a hurry, Mrs. Atkinson -Talk to you later."
Or never.
Elena gave the neighbor a parting smile, genuinely happy the conversation was over and, before the lady came up with more nice things to say, quickly shut the door.
She backed out of the driveway and made ready to drive off - the old harpy still watching her from the sidewalk.
If there was one thing Elena wasn't going to miss about this house, it surely had to be one particular neighbor across the street.
Nathan Drake by Elena Fisher-Drake as his attorney-in-fact
Elena neatly filled in the signature line. Then she quickly dropped her own signature on the line to the right and watched with relief as a woman across the table collected all the papers together into one thick stack. Elena clicked the pen closed and rested it on the table. After signing several sets of these signatures, she was glad it was the last one. A clock on the wall ticked noon and Elena patiently waited to be dismissed. Demanding, insatiable hunger came back and she knew she had to satisfy it before it brought nausea and fatigue along.
"Congratulations on the sale of your house!" The title lady beamed, "the wire transfer should reflect on your bank account within forty-eight hours. You and your husband have built quite an equity on that house with the mortgage paid off and the housing market booming as it is!" she commented cheerfully.
"That was the plan," Elena smiled politely and, seeing as the woman rose from her chair, collected the original of Nate's Power of Attorney from the table and followed suite.
After due pleasantries, the title lady left through one door, while Elena followed Emma through the other, which led to the lobby.
"Not as much signing, as with a mortgage, but Nate sure didn't make this one easy on you," Emma giggled, briefly glancing back.
As their real estate agent, Emma had been with them pretty much from the beginning of their shared life together. She helped them pick their first apartment to rent. She helped them find their first place to own. And later, she put that same place on the market, while helping them find a bigger house to better suit their growing family.
"Yep, someone's gotta work - I just happened to draw the short straw this time," Elena said as they crossed the sunlit lobby toward the exit.
They walked out of the cool air-conditioned building into the muggy summer heat and Elena breathed in deeply, while feeling for car keys in her handbag. Reaching Elena's car and Emma's SUV parked beside it, they paused.
"So how's the new house so far?" Emma asked, tucking a strand of fiery red hair behind her ear.
"Oh, it's great! We love it. Already got new cabinets put in, floors fixed up, sinks replaced, you know- the works."
"Sounds awesome," Emma's smile slightly wilted, "don't get me wrong, I'm happy I found you guys your forever home, but... sure gonna miss house hunting with you two – most entertaining time ever."
"Well you're always our top recommendation whenever someone's looking for the best realtor in town. Besides," Elena rested her hand on the top of her baby bump, "whenever this girl here needs her own place, I know exactly who to call."
They shared a friendly chuckle and then a warm hug.
"Aaaah, I feel like I just met you guys as a barely engaged couple and- here you are -already having a baby on the way," Emma batted her eyes sentimentally and added, "And you look absolutely wonderful- glowing from inside – a perfect baby bump and not an ounce of fat anywhere else - I'm jealous! When I was pregnant I swear every part of my body swell up. What's your secret?"
Elena wasn't sure how much of it was true and how much was friendly encouragement, speaking through Emma. Whatever it was, she felt grateful, especially after a brush with Mrs. Atkinson that morning, which might have gotten to her more than she had initially thought.
"Must be the bouts of morning sickness, that's all I can think of," Elena answered with a genuine smile on her face. They stood chatting a while longer, until both went to their cars.
"Say hi to Nate from me!" Emma cried, her hand waiving from out of the car window as she started pulling out of the parking lot and Elena waved back.
Watching Emma's car leave from the rearview mirror, Elena took several long sips of water and pulled her phone out.
As long beeps followed, she rummaged for a granola bar in the glove box, and then her husband's upbeat voice sounded from the speakers.
"Hey hot mama, how is it going?"
Elena chuckled. She would wag her tail if she had one.
"Guess who are no longer the proud owners of prime real estate in the heart of New Orleans?"
Driving back to the other side of town, Elena contently hummed along to music, which flowed out of the car speakers.
Her mood remained elevated; indignation over being left behind - gone without a trace. It was not in her nature to be upset for long. Nate was right. And Doctor Heart, of course, was too. As soon as Elena had come to terms with that, she was able to let the hard feelings go and adjust to changes. It wasn't gonna last forever after all. And if she was going to be stuck at home for the rest of her pregnancy (and probably beyond), she could as well find some joy in it. It didn't have to be a prison sentence.
She was able to convince herself that much.
So Elena started making plans of doing things she could do and coming up with ideas of what she could diversify her time with.
The car breezed across Lake Pontchartrain, skipping lightly on the joint plates of the bridge. Boundless blue waters seemed to stretch all the way to horizon, mirroring clear skies above and sparkling with dancing sunlight.
Elena mulled over an idea of having a nice cup of tea and a bar of milk chocolate with almonds she'd indulge herself with over a book when she got home. Sometimes it's the little things in life. Maybe she'd even pop herself a big pot of popcorn!
The day was wonderful and Elena let all her worries go.
Placated by a bowl of tomato soup and a chicken panini, Cassie quieted down for a change. Sometimes Elena wondered how Cass could sleep when music blasted all around and then start having a dancing spree the moment Elena's head touched the pillow. But - same as her Dad - you just never knew with that one.
Elena glanced in the rearview mirror. A shiny black sedan followed closely behind. It seemed the driver was in much more of a hurry than she was, so Elena glided the car to the right to let it pass. She waited, but, after a moment, the black sedan swerved behind her again. Elena let blue Maui Jims slip down her nose as she struggled to see a driver behind the windshield, but the windows were heavily tinted - so she stopped trying.
An unpleasant foreboding somewhat watered down Elena's bubbling cheerfulness and she kept shooting suspicious glances at the car behind.
She passed the bridge, got onto the interstate in the direction of their new house. Still, the black sedan flickered its polished body, appearing here and there out of the busy flow of traffic in her rearview. Maybe she was just paranoid, but when the sedan had a chance to get ahead, it never did, and cars swarmed around it, passing it from either side.
In the end, Elena decided it was never a bad idea to err on the side of caution and steered toward an exit. Hiding one car down, the black sedan did too. This still didn't mean anything. Elena turned right, then left, and left again and returned on the main road, completing a full square. She kept driving down for ten more minutes and, not seeing a single sign of the shiny black sedan, noticeable relaxed.
Why did she get it in her head she was followed? Why would she be followed anyway?
Just to be sure, Elena stopped by a grocery store and after paying at the checkout, asked a store attendant to help her take the bags to the car. A polite impressionable-looking teen with a head of shaggy brown hair, listened with slight concern as Elena, looking suspiciously around, shared unnecessary information about her and her husband's names, while vaguely rambling something about black cars and crazy psychos, even going as far as slipping a napkin with a name and a phone number into poor guy's hand.
"Just in case," she winked conspiratorially.
Reusable plastic bags full of groceries loaded into the trunk and perimeter check revealing nothing troublesome, Elena thanked the teen, who gave her an unsure smile before quickly heading back inside the supermarket, throwing couple nervous glances back at her.
"You're nuttier than a fruitcake," Elena congratulated herself, backing out of the parking spot - blaming everything on pregnancy hormones messing with her head again.
She drove off and headed for home. Hitting country roads, she slid the window down, enjoying the salty scent of ocean in the air and salivating smell of rotisserie chicken coming from the back. Yet she couldn't shake the nagging anxious feeling off. Finally she decided to call Nate, hoping that if she just shared her suspicions, it'd instantly lift the weight off her shoulders. Isn't that what husbands are for anyway? …among other things.
"Hey Elena, what's up?" Hugh's voice resounded from the speakers.
"Heeiy...is Nate there?" Elena asked in puzzled voice.
"It's his butler speaking, leave a message?" Hugh laughed, but quickly explained, "Nate's down diving for treasure, left the phone with me in case you suddenly went into early labor or something crazy like that. Mate's been crackers ever since he came back, jumps at slight noise, poor guy."
"Does he now?"
"Yeah, it pains to watch... wait a minute-," Hugh said suspiciously, as if suddenly realizing something, "you're not going into early labor, are you?"
"Oh no- no, no- just living the best life of a proper domestic housewife here - running the roads and spending money."
"I always wondered what feral housewives do," Hugh commented with evident relief in his voice.
"Hit nightclubs and seduce their friend's husbands?"
"Ha! Still sounds like a regular domestic housewife to me!" Hugh exclaimed and added with more seriousness, "Anyway, if it's something important I can get Nate to come up, or...?"
"Uuuum, well...," Elena hesitated, watching densely overgrown landscape on either side of the road. She momentarily covered her eyes and pursed her lips as she changed her mind, "Naaah- no need at all, I was just...wondering how the search's going. Tell him there's no need to call back right away, I'll just wait for his usual call at night."
"You got it! By the way, we've got some more trinkets here, looks like the search area is narrowing down."
"I love the sound of that - hopefully we'll be able to wrap this one up soon."
They chitchatted for a couple more minutes before Elena let Hugh go back to work and switched the music on again, thoughtfully looking straight ahead.
It was probably nothing. And considering how high-strung Nate already was according to Hugh, she didn't want to add more anxiety into the mix.
Tires loudly crunched over gravel, as Elena pulled into the carport next to the house. She threw a skidding look over random "stuff" sprawled leisurely around, but closely enough to fit under the protective roof overhead. The elements hadn't put too much of effect on bikes and tools and yard equipment, but she had a nasty feeling this wasn't gonna last much longer and she had better start making slow but steady progress towards moving everything into the bonus building nearby.
Tying entrance gate to the fence with a bungee cord (another project!), Elena winced as hot metal scorched her skin and, heading back toward the car to pick up grocery bags, felt alluring stroke of breeze on her face. It made her walk past the carport and step onto the sand, which quickly seeped around the straps of her sandals and she let it cover her toes in warm sun kissed mounds. She gazed at the serene shore and, as the surf ebbed and flowed, crashing against the beach and gentle wind played with the light cotton fabric of her white blouse, found herself relaxing and the uneasy thoughts taking flight toward the squalling seagulls in the distance. Perhaps she'd take a walk there at night, when it cooled down.
With that thought in mind, she walked back to the car, picked up one of the bags from out of the trunk and headed up the creaking steps toward the side door. She fumbled with jiggling keys and turned the knob.
With a screeching sound, the door opened and, not expecting any surprises, Elena walked inside, but...
Immediately her foot rolled on something smooth and round and betrayingly illusive and she screamed, instinctively throwing her arms out, searching for something - anything - to regain balance.
"Son of a-!"
Her savior happened to be the monumental laundry room sink, which obligingly sparked up in the sunlight, streaming from the window over it. Holding for dear life onto the sturdy cool surface and trying to calm her feverishly beating heart, Elena's threw an estimating look over the crime scene. Groceries scattered, carton of eggs a leaking snotty mess, and, all over the floor, random cleaning supplies that weren't there in the morning. The culprit?
Elena shot a glance full of open hatred at a half empty box that lay on the floor, which used to be sitting nicely atop the washing machine, but had a nerve to plot a tumble to the floor and sent one of the bottles into a premeditated roll toward the door and, later, her foot.
"Well that's a shitastrophy," Elena commented after a pause.
With escaped items safely back in the box and mess cleaned up, Elena nudged the box into a dusty corner and pointed a stern finger at it.
"And stay there."
Turning around the corner, Elena let out a wide yawn and tiredly placed the grocery bag on the counter. The kitchen still smelled of freshly cut wood - scent preserved within new cabinets. She breathed in deeply and smiled - it was the kitchen of her dreams with miles of counter space, chef's stove and a big old peninsula to boot.
Slowly, her smile paled – casting long shadows, stacked one on top of the other, towers of moving boxes looked mockingly down at her, extending a silent challenge. Recently delivered with all the other plants, Ficus Benjamina was surrounded by circle of fallen leaves - clearly taking offense to unkingly treatment of irregular watering and inconsistent light levels. Well, at least most of the dust after renovation was already taken care of.
And then...Elena's gaze reached a nice soft cozy couch, nestled in the middle of this chaos - a sweet haven of carefree comfort. She looked away. She wanted the boxes gone and she wanted the bleak walls cozied up with Nate's framed drawings, their family pictures and all the rest of wall art currently hoarding the nursery-to-be. But where to start?
"Okay Benji, let's water you," Elena sighed and, suppressing yet another yawn, got to work.
After the unexpected attack one step into her home, followed by an overwhelming urge to shake her life into somewhat of a balance, Elena completely forgot about the strange black sedan and the haunting feeling of being followed it ensued. She had more pressing concerns on her hands. Her new home was a chaos and there was no way she was going to let it stay that way until Nate came back home (exact time frame of which was still up in the air).
Glaring back at the frontier of ceiling-scraping pillars of boxes crowding the perimeter of the room, Elena rolled up the sleeves of her faded plaid shirt and tackled the first column of boxes labeled KITCHEN.
After a while, neat rows of glasses and mugs and plates and Tupperware lined up the insides of the kitchen cabinets and Elena measured the results of her work with a satisfied look.
"Nesting, huh?" Elena grumbled when doctor Heart's words suddenly came to mind, "Birds nest, doctor Heart, I'm just unboxing my home."
She looked around. Ten boxes gone and – Elena squinted – about ten times that amount to go. However they managed to hoard so much stuff?!
"We're never moving again!" she grunted in frustration.
Not broken (well, maybe a little) and definitely not defeated, Elena came to conclusion – she needed a break.
Elena didn't remember exactly at which point she suddenly drifted away, still holding a book open in front of her, bowl of popcorn half-full by her side, with several stray pieces scattered over the velvety throw that covered her in warm soft cloud of sleep she found herself grudgingly torn away from.
It was dark outside, diffused yellow light of the lamp on the little side table nearby filled the living room with shadows.
Irritating high-pitched sound of the doorbell split the warm tranquil silence of the drowsy house. This must be what woke her up, Elena thought and put the book away, reluctantly pulling the blanket off and rising from the couch. She walked down the corridor and round the corner toward the front door, throwing a quick critical look at herself as she passed by the mirror.
Her phone blinked on the counter and, picking it up, Elena noticed four missed calls from Nate. She put it back down - she'd call him back, she just needed to get the door first.
Elena wondered if it was that sweet elderly lady, who lived five minutes down the road and mentioned making a house-warming pie for them when they got settled in.
Rubbing her eyes, Elena turned the knob. As the door opened, the expression on her face changed into quizzical as she looked over the person on the other side.
It wasn't the sweet elderly lady, who lived down the road, although the word "elderly" could be loosely applied in this instance as well. Illuminated by the porch light, stood a tall broad-shouldered man - his dark hair glinted with abundant highlights of silvery grey and sad eyes carried an expression of an abused old basset hound. To be honest, his whole figure conveyed that impression.
He stared back at Elena, looking her over with equal curiosity and somewhat taken aback. His eyes slid over her baby bump and a shadow of indecisiveness went over his face for a moment.
"Elena Drake?" he asked.
Elena was used to people conveniently omitting her maiden name, but it was not the reason why she hesitated to answer.
Drowsiness abruptly vanished and she froze, as the earlier events of the day caught up with her memory. Her gaze skimmed down the moonlit beach behind the man; along tropical greenery and both sides of the porch, but she didn't notice anybody else.
"Depends on who's asking," she answered, trying to keep her tone firm, but something must have betrayed her - the sudden flicker of fear in her eyes or was it her hand tensing up on the door? - because the man seemed to freeze too. And, as they stared each other down, the busy buzzing sounds of summer night suddenly turned into but muted echoes, narrowing down to two sets of eyes watching, waiting to see who'd be the first to move.
Very slowly Elena slid her fingers toward the interior side of the door. She only needed a split second and... lightning-fast, Elena jerked the door forward, noting a crunch and a jammed leg of the pursuer with a corner of her eye, as she dashed in the direction of the bedroom where she knew the gun was waiting inside Nate's bedside table. Followed by a cry of pain and surprise, her name being repeatedly shouted and the front door kicked open, she snatched her phone from the counter as she ran by.
Down the corridor, round the corner, blood pounding in her ears and heavy feet stomping behind, Elena flew into the bedroom and - her heart sank in horror - saw a big moving box that she herself placed in front of Nate's bedside table several hours ago to sort clothes inside into the dresser. Desperately, she lunged at it, scraping her nails against the cardboard, trying to push it aside. Pumped up by adrenalin, she made the box tumble out of the way and then pulled the knob so hard, the drawer fell out, spilling its contents over the floor. Elena reached for the gun - it flashed in the light - but as her fingers made contact with the handle...
"NO!" she cried.
It was too late.
She was pulled back by her shoulders, and the gun - so close! - slipped out of her fingers and the phone she had clutched in her other hand, rudely screwed out. There were voices shouting, as Elena cussed and hissed and recoiled trying to wiggle out of the tight grasp.
"No guns!" a voice thundered above all, "Don't be rough with her!"
Blinded by panic and unwillingness to stay captured, Elena spun around and kicked someone in the groin and punched someone else in the face and bit a hand extended her way and even managed to whack someone's head with Nate's heavy "light read" she snatched from the table.
"Be careful, don't hurt her!"
"Don't hurt her?!"
"She's the one hurting us!"
The scuffle continued, but, in the end, the weaponized book landed on the floor with a thud, Elena's hands were caught by two strong sets of two and her arms were restrained behind her back and, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't wriggle herself free anymore.
"Let go of me you bastards!"
With her head held high by the pull of someone's fingers in her hair, Elena was forced to look straight in front of her.
The stranger she met at the door and whose leg she jammed, tiredly rubbed his forehead and wiped a bead of sweat off his temple.
"This is not the way I wanted this to go," he muttered and looked at Elena with eyes full of shame as he picked up Nate's gun from the floor, "let her go," he ordered the two men behind her and, as she felt the grip around her loosening, the barrel of the gun stared dead-straight at her face, "Now, mama bear, let's talk peacefully, shall we?"
A sharp-edged thought flashed through Elena's brain.
She should have gone for the knives.