The Look of Love. Jill Egizii

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      The Look of Love

      © 2010 Jill Egizii

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

      This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, and scenarios are ficticious and do not represent any actual persons or events.

      Manufactured in the United States of America.

      For information, please contact:

      Brown Books Publishing Group

      16200 North Dallas Parkway, Suite 170

      Dallas, Texas 75248

       www.brownbooks.com

      972-381-0009

      A New Era in Publishing™

      ISBN: 978-1-61254-003-0

      LCCN: 2009937054

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      Dedication

      To my beautiful children

      and all alienated parents and grandparents,

      who have had to endure the pain of a broken heart.

      And to my husband who makes my life such a joy to live.

      Anna knew she’d better swing back out to the farmhouse and clean up. She and the kids ran late this morning leaving dirty pans and dishes scattered around. If…mind you, if…Erik managed to get downstairs she didn’t want the kids to have to listen to him throw a fit later. She scans the room for evidence of his presence as she tiptoes in the back door.

      “Anna!!!” He booms from somewhere above. “Annie!!!” He knows she hates that nickname. She waits a few ticks to see if he’ll shut up or if she’ll have to go deal with him. Their so-called separation hadn’t kept him from leaning heavily on her because of his stupid, unnecessary, hypochondriacal, operation. Of course he managed to find doctors who said ‘how high’ when he yelled ‘jump.’ So surgery it had been. But he isn’t going to suck her into being his slave today.

      Finally after weeks of sending out résumés and making follow-up phone calls Anna has two job interviews lined up. Today of all days she isn’t going to get dragged into his drama. She’s tired of living in her Mom and Dad’s empty house in town, driving back and forth to take care of the kids. A job held the promise of money that would buy her freedom.

      Erik, as good as his threats, allowed her absolutely nothing; not a thin dime out of his several millions. Anna only discovered his betrayal when the grocer refused to take her check.

      The embarrassed store manager drew her aside to show her the previous two checks the bank returned. Erik stopped payment. He changed all the credit cards. Now Anna has nothing but what she carried out the door six weeks ago. She arrives at the house every morning before the kids wake up and leaves in the evening after dinner is cleaned up and homework is finished. Most nights she stays until Betsy and Drew are asleep. Thankfully Erik either stays at the office late or haunts their regular round of dining emporiums. Most likely drinking his way through every menu, leaving a trail of abused waiters and offended chefs in his wake. As a result Anna and Erik rarely cross paths.

      “ANNNIIIEE!!” He bellows, following up with a rapid fire succession of increasing volume. “ANNIE, ANNIE, ANNIE, ANNIE, ANNIE.” She is sorely tempted to walk out and slam the door. Let him know she’s blatantly ignoring him. Erik’s bellows are more grating than the lowing calves when first separated from their mothers. The thought gives her a small chuckle. It is in that instant of mirth in which she relents. ‘Oh what harm could it do to get him a fresh glass of orange juice and track down his remote?’ He most likely flung it across the room in a fit of pique last night while watching the political pundits.

      She bounds up the steps shaking her head. Boy oh boy once she’s gone…really gone that is…would he ever learn. Well once he’s gone that is. He refused to move out to make their separation ‘official’ until he bought another house. When Anna couldn’t stand his presence anymore, couldn’t live with him one more day while he studied the market, she started staying at her parents to get away from him. They were in Florida most of the year anyway. Plus it was only temporary until he moved out. ‘And once he does’ thinks Anna, ‘he’ll realize that it’s me that holds him together.’ Literally. Frankly she looks forward to the day he realizes how truly helpless he is without her at his beck and call. She collects Betsy, Maggie, and Drew’s stray things from the steps as she goes up, dropping a pile of lost belongings in each child’s doorway.

      “Annie!” he’s a little more contrite in tone now. Good. “Anna?” Even close up he’s quiet. Amazing. She peeks around the bedroom door to find his bed empty. Odd guttural sounds draw her attention to the bathroom. Something liquid trickles from under the door, glistening in the light. Did he try to take a bath? That idiot! Everyone knows you don’t put fresh surgical staples in water. As she gets closer, what she thought was water takes on a distinctly more sinister appearance. ‘Oh! That’s blood.’

      “Erik?” She says rushing through the door. “Uh gah-uck,” she chokes back the bile that rises in her throat at the sight of him. Despite her years on the farm, the blood everywhere frightens her. He’s somehow managed to tear open the entire incision across his belly. It’s deep. His surgeons cut efficiently at least, that’s for sure. Much to her chagrin, Anna discovers that far worse than the blood is the pulsing viscera he juggles with little success. It looks as though his entire inside has flopped out.

      She grabs the nearest towel and approaches him in a wary crab walk. He’s panting and writhing, furious at the betrayal of his own flesh, pissed off at the devilish innards trying to abandon ship. She never imagined so many shades of pink and red, nor the various qualities mucus could display. She puts some pressure on the bulging membranes in an effort to shift them back behind the flesh but the blood makes everything slippery and she’s shaking and choking on bile. Not to mention scared within an inch of her sanity. He’s saying…something, “Arh- agu, abageehee u biss.” You bitch. That much she gets.

      After doing what she can to stanch the bleeding and wrap him up she remembers her purse, her cell phone. She calls his doctor; Cudahy, then an ambulance and the hospital all while continuing to try to truss him up. He keeps pushing on her trying to stand up. The slime everywhere keeps them both trapped. Anna yanks down the rest of the towels spreading them over the floor; a new kind of red carpet for his royal highness.

      Of course he can’t wait. He’s grabbing onto her, shaking and pulling. He’s white as parchment, his gut gaping like an open mouth and still the little dictator. She does what she can to wipe him down before wrapping him in a dark robe. He insists on hobbling down the stairs. His obvious intent to get to the car.

      Her hands still quake as she fires up the ignition. He sprawls out in the passenger seat which is flung back and cranked to recline. He’s still blathering at her. With one hand on the steering wheel the other groping for the cell phone she manages to roll out onto the main road into town. Cudahy is talking in Anna’s ear as she struggles to maintain control of the car and herself. The shaking spreads from her hands to her chest. She realizes her ribs are shaking. Why is she so cold? Erik is roving in and out of consciousness. Blood trickles from the padding around his middle down his thigh. This single driblet somehow horrifies her, mesmerizes her.

      “Anna…your incompetent driving is going to kill me before this gash does. Pay attention won’t you! You always