Left for Dead by Kevin O'Brien Read Free Book Online Page A

offered, drumming her fingers on the arm of her wheelchair. “Maybe then I’ll remember this shopping trip downtown. Charlie could fill in the blanks for us, Dr. Beal. You know, help clear away the cobwebs?”
    Emily Beal’s mouth twisted into a frown, and she shifted a bit in the chair. “Claire, can you remember the last time you saw Charlie?” she asked. “What were the two of you doing?”
    Claire stared back at her. Again, she drew a blank. It was an easy question: When did she last see her husband? Was it a kiss good-bye at breakfast as he went off to teach classes at the university? Or was she waving at him and driving off with her “friend” to spend the night in a hotel downtown? Why would she do that—when they lived only about fifteen minutes away from downtown Seattle?
    Dr. Beal sighed. “Can you remember where you and Charlie last went out to eat, Claire? Or a present he gave you on your last birthday?”
    “A pearl necklace,” Claire answered. “He gave me a single-string pearl necklace.”
    It was very simple and elegant, something Dr. Beal would wear. Claire remembered thinking Charlie must have spent at least a couple of hundred dollars, and they couldn’t afford it.
    No, that wasn’t her last birthday. It was their anniversary, and because money was so tight, they’d agreed ahead of time not to exchange presents.
    Claire remembered how she’d become an expert at coupon clipping, and hunting down bargains at secondhand shops. She knew when they marked down the beef, pork, and chicken at the supermarket. She bought in bulk and froze it.
    Charlie was in graduate school, working as a teacher’s assistant. They lived in a rented two-bedroom rambler she fixed up with nails, glue, paint, and window treatments. She had an art studio in the basement, but could steal away only a few hours a week to paint. Her work was slightly derivative of Edward Hopper, but good for an occasional two or three hundred bucks a month when a piece sold at some café or street fair.
    Most of Claire’s time was spent with their two-year-old, Brian. Sometimes she also babysat a neighbor’s son the same age as Brian. It brought in some extra money.
    “This is what happens when you get married and have a baby while still in college,” Claire’s mother declared during a weekend visit around that time.
    “Actually, we’re very happy, Mother,” Claire told her.
    But on that anniversary, when Charlie went against their pact and bought her a gift, Claire wasn’t happy. It didn’t help that Brian had pitched a fit when a neighbor-friend picked him up for the night. And Claire’s attempt to cook Charlie’s favorite meal (beef brisket, twice-baked potatoes, and green bean casserole with the Durkee’s Onion rings on top) was a disaster. The brisket was one of those reduced cuts of beef she always bought on sale. An old shoe, marinated and cooked at 350 for an hour, would have been more tender and flavorful.
    She was still crying over the dinner when Charlie gave her the fancy-wrapped, small gift box—which just had to be from a jewelry store. They were sitting at the folding card table in the kitchen, and she’d replaced the ever-present, washable plastic tablecloth with a checkered polyester one. Cosco wine goblets took the place of jelly glasses. There was a candle glowing on the table—along with their plates and the half-eaten dinner.
    “But we had an agreement,” she said, unwrapping the gift. “We weren’t supposed to exchange presents…”
    Then she opened the box and saw the pearl necklace. “Oh, my God, Charlie! What were you thinking? We can’t afford this.”
    “Do you like it?” he asked, smiling hopefully.
    “That’s not the point!” she snapped. “I don’t know how we’ll pay this month’s phone bill and you’re making out like Donald Trump! Where am I going to wear this anyway?”
    Then she saw the hurt look on his handsome face. Claire apologized, and kissed him.
    That night, she came