SHUDDERVILLE FIVE Read Online Free PDF

human body over time. They were guinea pigs, the two of them. But Will had to fix things. He was determined to get it right.
    He’d almost forgotten the most important question. He went to the bottom of the stairs, put his hand on the railing and said, “Charlotte? What flight did you book?”
    *
    On the plane, Will was belligerently, unapologetically cheerful.
    “Coffee, please,” he told the perky flight attendant.
    “Black? Cream?”
    “Sugar.”
    “One okay?”
    “Three. Four.”
    “Wow. You like it sweet.”
    “Sure do.” He blew on the surface of his coffee, wanting the coldness out of his body. It was overcast and gray outside. They were halfway across the country, heading for Santa Barbara wine country. Spending Christmas with the in-laws. Horseback-riding and golf. He’d exchanged their tickets for a flight that wouldn’t crash.
    “Will?” Her hand snaked toward him in the dark. “Let’s start over. Okay?”
    “A fresh start?”
    “Yes. Okay?”
    “Yeah, we could do that.” He smiled and squeezed her warm hand.
    There was a rosy glow to her face. She kissed him and leaned her head against his shoulder, and he could feel her long, sad sigh in her body. “If you don’t know that I love you, first and foremost, then there’s nothing more to say,” she whispered in his ear.
    Things went pretty much as planned. Will had his breakthrough on the plane. He asked the stewardess for a napkin, wrote it all down and put it in his pocket. They didn’t argue. The plane didn’t crash. The Coke didn’t spill.
    They spent a week in California wine country with the in-laws. They drove up to Solvang, bought a bottle of burgundy, got drunk and made love. They had a good time. Will began to relax. He began to believe she really loved him.
    When they got home from their trip to Santa Barbara, Will immediately went to work with Tobias on their project. He didn’t keep his promise. Soon, he was working late every night.
    Months passed. Every week, it got harder to pretend that things were okay. He suspected Charlotte of sneaking around behind his back. He suspected her of having an affair with one of her students—maybe Owen, maybe someone else. He spied on her as she went about her daily tasks—grading papers, giving lectures, counseling students, applying for grants. He observed her getting ready for bed at night and wondered why she was taking more time with her appearance lately. The only time they made love was when he asked her. He had to ask. She never initiated sex on her own.
    In March, Charlotte started getting sick in the mornings. She would leap out of bed and run for the bathroom. One day she went to see her doctor, and when Will got home from work that night, she told him she was pregnant. She looked excited and flushed, but he was apprehensive about it. He asked a few too many questions, and she went to bed angry. That night he had a nightmare that the baby wasn’t his. He woke up and accused her of infidelity. When she protested, he accused her of lying.
    The following morning, he apologized. He tried to pretend that he was excited about the prospect of having children, but his forced smile stretched the skin of his face. Over breakfast, he caught his wife looking at him like he was a monster.
    He went to work, and that night when he came home, she was gone. She had packed her bags and left him.
    There was a note.
    Will, I don’t know why expected you to be happy about the baby, but I did. What I didn’t expect was your sulky silence, and then your paranoid-sounding questions, and then this morning your baseless accusations. How can I let my child be raised in an atmosphere of constant suspicion? The answer is—I can’t.
    Since you refuse to listen, maybe this will explain things? Remember our worst fight ever? Just the two of us in the car on the highway in the pouring rain last fall? The wipers didn’t work, and the icy rain was almost blinding, and you could barely see out the