DEATH BY HONEYMOON Page 3

  “I’m so sorry,” Cindy said.

  “We thought you would take good care of Clint,” his mother lifted her head and stared at Cindy. There was not an ounce of sympathy in her. The entire family was wrapped only in their own grief. “We still can’t understand how something like this could have happened,” his mother persisted.

  Cindy felt her heart start to pound and her lips get dry. What were they intimating? Fortunately, Ann came to the rescue.

  “This was a horrible accident,” she said quietly. “If Cindy could have prevented it, she would have. She’s suffering, too.”

  Ralph, Marge’s husband, cleared his throat when Ann said that. “We’re all suffering,” he said. “We recognize that.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Ann replied.

  “We didn’t come here to argue,” Ralph stated, in his flat, orderly, dry tone.

  What did you come here for? Cindy wanted to ask them, but held her tongue. She could feel the raw emotion not only in her, but everyone there. It could explode at any moment and wreak havoc in their lives. She had heard of things like that happening after a death—families fighting, wild accusations, even when the death was expected, even when it was natural. Cindy placed her hands on her lap and folded them together.

  “None of us are clear about what exactly happened,” Ralph took the lead. It sounded as though he’d prepared his words to the letter.

  In a swift moment, Cindy realized this was not a condolence call. The family wanted facts, information—they wanted someone to blame for this nightmare. Thankfully, Ann had some experience with these kinds of situations. Before she started her own consulting business, she was trained as a social worker and had worked in a hospital for a few years before her marriage .

  Cindy looked at Ann, pleadingly.Do something, she wanted to say, fill the empty spaces, answer their questions, make all this go away.

  Ann got the message.

  “What would you like to know, Ralph?” she said.

  “It’s not just me, of course, it’s the entire family,” Ralph answered carefully.

  “Of course,” Ann replied professionally. “What questions can I answer for you?”

  “I don’t want to hear from you,” Clint’s mother’s face flushed. “It’s Cindy I want to hear from. She’s the one who was there.”

  “Cindy has already told everyone what happened,” Ann said.

  “No she hasn’t. Not enough. I want to know more—much more.”

  “I know how hard this is for you,” Ann said to Clint’s mother quietly.

  “No, you don’t,” his mother hissed. “Nobody can know what it’s like for a mother to lose a son. Certainly not a new bride, who only knew him for a year. I knew him his whole life long. From the day he was born. I carried him inside me for nine months.”

  Cindy felt woozy again, almost like fainting. “I’m so sorry,” she said to his mother.

  His mother’s head flipped upwards, like a cat. “Sorry isn’t enough,” she said.

  Ann got up and stood between Cindy and her. “Excuse me,” she interrupted, “but my sister is in pain as well. I hope you realize that.”

  “I don’t realize anything,” Clint’s mother said. “I don’t know how in the world I could have lost a son. And I want answers from the last person who saw him alive.”

  Cindy choked back the tears that were forming.

  “We never felt good about this marriage,” Marge chimed in. “There were a lot of questions which were unanswered.”

  “Like what?” Anne said.

  Marge turned and looked to Ralph for help.

  “Like why Clint, such a young man, would take out such a large insurance policy, just before a new marriage. It’s not par for the course.”

  “I told Clint to tell you he was doing it,” Cindy said. She had enough, and stood up. “I never wanted the policy. I told him not to, but he said he wanted to protect me, in case anything ever happened. Clint was like that. Very protective.”

  “You don’t have to tell us who Clint was,” Marge said.

  “Then why do you have all these questions?” Cindy said.

  “We’ve heard different stories about what happened on the island,” Clint’s father spoke up suddenly.

  “From who?” Cindy asked.

  “From different relatives.”

  “Your relatives weren’t on the island,” Cindy said forcefully.

  “But everyone’s looking into what happened,” his father continued, “they all have different opinions.”

  Cindy felt ill. Clint’s family was suspicious of everything, and she’d known it before they married. Even Ann warned her about it, but she hadn’t paid a bit of attention . Now, for a quick moment, she was sorry . She didn’t want to ever have to see any of them again.

  Marge stood up suddenly and smoothed her black rayon dress. “For starters,” she bristled, “you could tell us why in the world you chose to go to the East Coast of the island instead of the West? Everyone knows it’s dangerous.”

  “We went for the surfing,” Cindy answered quickly. “Some friends of Clint’s recommended the place. I don’t have to tell you that Clint loved to surf.”

  “He surfed his whole life and nothing happened,” Marge repeated bitterly.

  “He surfed rougher places, and was a fantastic swimmer. He was a lifeguard for years. He knew the ocean inside and out.”

  Cindy saw Clint’s father’s head bob up and down. She didn’t know if he was sobbing or if he’d fallen asleep. No one else seemed to notice. Marge did, though.

  “You see how sick dad is?” she said. “And all this has made it worse.”

  “I’m very sorry,” Cindy said again.

  Now his mother stood up and walked right up to where Cindy was sitting.

  “When was the last time you saw my son alive? What was the last thing you said to each other?” Her eyes were squinting as if a strong light shone on them.

  Cindy tried to remind herself to say calm, that his family were all in horrible pain.

  She shouldn’t take any of this personally. It was awful, though, to be forced to go back over that afternoon. But she wanted to give them whatever comfort she could.

  “I last saw him in the afternoon. We were planning to go surfing together. It was about an hour or so after lunch. We went up to the room to change and I

  suddenly began to have bad cramps. I got very tired. So, I lay down for a little nap instead. I planned to nap for about an hour and then go down and meet him on the beach.”

  “And?” his mother was relentless.

  “And I overslept. I woke three hours later.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” his mother said. “You suddenly had cramps from out of nowhere?”

  “That’s what happened,” Cindy replied. “I jumped up, got out of bed and ran down to the beach to join him. He wasn’t there.”

  “Where was he?” Ralph questioned.

  “He wasn’t there,” Cindy repeated.

  “Where do you think he was?” said Marge . “He was dead in the ocean.” She turned on Ralph, who flinched.

  “The hour of death,” Ralph continued blankly, “was determined to be around five in the afternoon.”

  A long, dark pall hung over the room.

  “Where is all of this going?” Ann interrupted.

  “When did Cindy get down to the beach?” Ralph asked.

  “I got down at about 5:15 or so,” Cindy said.

  “None of it makes sense.” his mother started ringing her hands again. “He died a few minutes before you arrived? How is it possible?”

  “When I got down there the beach was empty,” Cindy repeated breathlessly. “I ran up and down. I couldn’t find him.”

  “Were the two of you fighting? Was he sorry you ever got married?” The words poured out of Marge fitfully.

  “That’s enough,” Ann said forcefully, and stood in front of Cindy to protect her from the onslaught. “This visit is over. I don’t know wha
t you’re thinking, but you’re way out of line.”

  “Why else wouldn’t a bride go down to the beach with her husband when he’s surfing? Why else would she suddenly have cramps and sleep all afternoon?”

  Marge was on a rampage.

  “What are you intimating?” Ann asked.

  “The facts lead to questions,” Ralph stood up. “We have to ask them. In honor of Clint’s memory, we have to know what really went on.”

  Cindy felt herself choking. Was this horrible family accusing her of wrongdoing? From the start they wanted to disrupt the relationship - and even now, after his death?

  “There were no witnesses to anything,” Ralph continued. “No one knew you were asleep in your room?”

  “The man who ran the hotel, Alex, saw me leave when I ran out to the beach,” Cindy said.

  “How convenient,” Marge replied.

  “I beg your pardon,” Ann glared at her.

  Cindy could barely hold her tongue. “I’ve thought about it myself,” Cindy continued. “Who’s really responsible? There are loopholes here, serious loopholes.” She stared right back at Ralph. “Don’t think I haven’t wondered exactly what happened myself.”

  Ralph didn’t so much as blink an eye. Again a strange, dark silence descended over them all. Cindy suddenly looked over at the wall and saw the photograph of her and Clint, smiling together, arm in arm, leaning against their new, small boat they had docked here in the cove. They had been so happy in every way. How could anyone think otherwise? Could Clint see what was going on now? What would it take to make him realize? Wasn’t there something he could do to protect her now?

  Cindy wished she had better answers to the questions they’d asked. She flashed back to the hotel room, to the moment she woke up that afternoon. She’d been disoriented. It was not like her to nap that long in the afternoon. And she didn’t usually have cramps. She and Clint had been together every minute of the honeymoon. She’d had no intention of abandoning him. That was the last thing in her heart or mind.

  She was not going to share these facts with the family, though, or defend herself in any way. It would only make things worse. Clearly, they hated her and wanted to punish her for everything. They were looking for any detail that could pin her up against the wall.

  Once again Ann interrupted the tense situation.

  “I think this is enough for now,” she said. “Cindy looks exhausted and so does Clint’s father. “

  “When?” his mother suddenly burst out, standing. “When will I know the truth!?”

  Chapter 5

  After they left, both Cindy and Ann breathed a sigh of relief at exactly the same moment.

  “How could someone so wonderful have a family like that?” Cindy said, trembling.

  “Sit down, I’ll bring you some tea,” Ann said.

  Cindy couldn’t bring herself to sit on the sofa right where his parents had been sitting . “They’re terrifying,” she murmured.

  “His family’s struggling with a terrible loss,” Ann said quietly.

  “They’re blaming me,” Cindy felt her face grow red.

  “Yes, they are,” Ann said without flinching, “Cindy, I really think you should come home.”

  For a moment Cindy couldn’t understand what Ann was saying. “I am home,” she said.

  “I mean, back to Wisconsin. You could move in with mother for awhile and I would be close by. I can’t stay here forever. Frank is being a darling, but he also needs me. Sooner or later, he’s going to tell me to come back.”

  Cindy’s heart dropped at the thought of Ann leaving. In the back of her mind she knew this would be coming. Ann couldn’t stay here forever. She’d been here way longer already than she should have. Tears filled Cindy’s eyes.

  “I can’t go back and live with mother,” Cindy said, forlorn. “It wouldn’t work, she wouldn’t be comfortable and neither would I. She needs her space.”

  “Well, you can get your own apartment near us. For a year or so anyway. It will help you get back to yourself again. Most of your friends are back home, too. You’ve only been East for a year and a half.”

  “This is my home now. And Clint’s.”

  “He’s not here anymore.”

  “But we bought it together. We picked it out, moved in, put the pictures on the walls. We started to plant the garden together. Clint’s things are all over. How can I just leave everything behind?”

  Ann took Cindy’s hands. “Cindy, sweetheart,” she said softly, “Clint’s things are here. But he is not.”

  The words didn’t sink in. Cindy couldn’t grasp them. Looking around, she felt as though he were everywhere.

  “You need to be close to people who love you, who will take care of you for awhile. You’ve been through a tremendous ordeal,” Ann said.

  “I have some new friends here,” Cindy said. She thought of a few friends from work that she had lunched with, and others she’d met at the local book club. Her life here was beginning to grow roots. Most of the time, of course, Cindy had spent with Clint.

  “I mean, you need to be near family,” Ann said.

  Cindy sat down on the sofa. Ann was more than a sister to her—she was a best friend. She wanted to go back and be close to her, but she also knew she couldn’t. This was her home and she couldn’t run from it. There was too much unfinished business, too many strands to be unraveled. She had wedding gifts to unpack and return. Thank you cards to write, letters to be answered. She had all of Clint’s clothing and possessions to look after. And she had a job she loved as a research assistant at a top newspaper in the city. Cindy always loved to find little known facts, investigate details in a story. And her boss said she could take as much time as she needed; whenever she was ready, the job was waiting for her. Little by little, she’d get ready. She’d learn how to stand on her own two feet and make sense of all that had gone on.

  “What about Clint’s family?” Ann continued. “They’re strange. They’re dangerous. And they only live a mile away. I’m nervous leaving you here so close by.”

  “They don’t have the key to the house,” Cindy said swiftly, a wave of anger rising.

  “This is my home, and Clint was my husband, whether they liked it or not. I’m sorry, Ann, really I am, but there’s no way I can leave my home with Clint behind.”

  Cindy stormed away into her room and threw herself down on the bed.This can’t be happening, she said to herself, over and over. Then she closed her eyes and pictured Clint, as if to bring him back to her. She remembered the two of them together at the wedding, kissing, holding hands, how beautiful everything had been. That is, until it came time for the speeches.

  When it was Clint’s mother’s turn to say a few words, she stood up and spoke about Clint as a little boy, how wonderful he’d been then, and that she had no idea what happened when he grew up. Everyone had laughed, except Cindy. His mother said a few more words about Clint, the ladies’ man, then fluffed her hair and sat down. She didn’t say a word about Cindy. When it was Marge’s turn, she went on and on about what a wonderful catch Clint was. Again not a word about Cindy, or welcoming her into the family. Cindy’d had a sinking feeling right then, but just let it drift away . She wasn’t going to let them ruin her wedding. Soon she and Clint would be away from them all, the two of them alone together, on their honeymoon . He was hers now, and the family could never take him away. Or so she imagined.

  Cindy’s mind drifted back again to the honeymoon. They’d both been so thrilled to be in Barbados, it seemed that everything there was welcoming them, the sky, sand, rolling waves . They’d laughed and joked about everything, explored all kinds of nooks and crannies, saw the flying fish, whistling turtles, coral reefs, chatted with locals and guests at the hotel. It was as if they were exactly where they belonged and nothing bad could ever happen to them. She remembered snorkeling with Clint in the warm, turquoise water, swimming among gorgeous, slippery, red, green and yellow fish. As they swam, their legs intertwined, it seemed as
if they would never be apart.

  “We were put on this earth just for each other,” Clint had whispered to her late one night as they danced at the hotel.

  Cindy felt that way, too. She didn’t know what she had done to deserve this kind of happiness.

  Now she began to go over and over each moment, looking for the reason why everything had gone so wrong. She felt helpless not knowing, as if she were just letting the ocean sweep Clint away. How could it? He was such a good person, had always reached out to help everybody. Why would this terrible thing happen to him? It didn’t make any sense. There had to be an explanation. Maybe someone wanted to murder him . She had to find out who.

  She went over each day before the wedding carefully, again and again. Clint had been more stressed than usual the last few weeks leading up to the marriage. She hadn’t thought much of it then, knew it was normal for tensions to build before the big day. His family only added to the tension, had something to complain about every day. They were upset with everything about the wedding—the seating, the flowers, the band. There was nothing that felt right to them. And they blamed Cindy for all of it. Clint’s mother even had Ralph call and ask Clint if he really knew the woman he was marrying. After all, they’d only been together for a year.

  “Why do they hate me so much?” Cindy’d asked frequently.

  Clint refused to consider that question.

  “My parents don’t hate anyone. They love you like I do. They’re just nervous about me.”

  Cindy didn’t get it. She wondered more deeply now about the extent of their hatred. What kind of action might it have led them to take? Were there secrets she had no idea about? Had he been holding something back from her? And, now that he was gone, would she ever know?

  She broke down sobbing.It’s not fair, it’s not fair, she murmured, he didn’t deserve it. Not Clint. And, with tears uncontrollably pouring down her face, she fell into a torn, fitful sleep. In which followed, day after day, night after night, a parade of restless nightmares.