Three Women

1

She sat in the sand with wind in her locks, inhaling the salt air that helped her forget. It was a needed respite from a day, month, year of beautiful memories that hurt because they would never happen again. How the last time never announced itself weighed on her, bungling up her thoughts with unanswerable questions. Sand slowly poured out of her hand and fell back to the beach. Her mind returned to him and the futility of her fight became more crystallized. Looking out as far as she could, she succumbed to sadness while letting the wind dance on her cheeks.

Sally's life was one of uncertainty. It had started when she was nine, when she convinced herself that she could climb a chainlink fence only to slip, fall and have the chainlink slide through the skin on her face. The mirror's daily reminder of her own stupidity had made her meek and unsure. Her dad, Sally's sole confidence booster and best friend, was the one that told her that she could do anything.

Even his last words to her were meant to give a belief she had long lost: "Time and effort is all it takes, Sal. Time and effort."

What he was referring to had already escaped her. There was a before and after, and Sally was firmly planted in the after. Nothing that was important then mattered now.

*

Sand irritated Robbie, as did anything that made her life unduly difficult. With each step, her Chuck Taylors slid slightly more than she expected. It made her feel drunk, giving her unwanted flashbacks to a life she had long left behind. She could see Sally in the distance, in her paltry dress, sitting on the beach with no care about getting sand on her clothes. From afar, she looked normal, like she wasn't the girl who had just sat tearlessly through her father's funeral.

"Everyone's wondering where you went," Robbie called out.

Sally turned her head and saw her cousin, still dressed in grunge despite the occasion. She let out a small smile.

"Mind if I join you?" Robbie sat down close beside Sally without waiting for permission. "How're you holding up?"

Sally thought of how to respond, but before she could say anything, Robbie continued, "Don't answer that. 'How're you holding up?' Bad. You're holding up bad. You don't need to tell me that. I can only imagine how you feel. Your dad was the good one. I was lucky. I lost my crappy parent. You... well, I don't know what's going to happen. I wish I could say that it gets easier."

Robbie tried to enjoy the horizon like her cousin, but basking in nature was never her pastime. She found it incredibly difficult to sit still, and it was even harder when she needed to get something off her chest.

The momentary silence that felt infinite to Robbie was broken when she asked, "Did he ever talk to you about his will?"

"No," responded Sally.

Robbie stood up and walked in front of Sally.

"There's a lot in it. More than you know, maybe."

Sally looked at her cousin. Robbie had her legs spread as wide as she could stand while doing some light stretching. Sally observed her ankles and how they moved like a wave into her calf, up to her taut thighs.

"A lot of money," said Robbie.

As Sally's eyes went up past Robbie's hips and swam over her torso, something in Sally's belly turned.

"We don't have any money," said Sally.

Robbie's head was nearly touching the sand, and she lifted herself back upright. "Wrong. He kept it all in savings. The only problem is, now it falls to your mom rather than to you. Tough break."

As she watched Robbie lift her right leg up to her chest, Sally sunk her fingers deep into the sand.

"Whatever he left, she should have it," Sally said meekly.

"Are you crazy? She's going to spend it all on her habit. Leave you with nothing and disregard all your dad's hard work. I think, if he knew he was going to die, he would've fixed his will so that the money would go to you directly."

"He was sick for a long time. He did know he was going to die."

"I don't know Sally," said Robbie as she dropped her right foot forward and fell into a lunge. "He was on the mend. Then, all of a sudden, he croaks. Kind of suspicious. Everyone's thinking it; aren't you on that e-mail chain?"

"I don't have e-mail."

"Of course you don't. Look, your mom is not well. You know it. I know it. Everyone knows it. Who knows what goes on in her mind."

"I had to bury him today and you're already talking about money."

Robbie stopped her stretching. She sighed and sat back down beside Sally.

"I know, I'm sorry, but you need to act fast here. Once that money goes to her, you'll never see it. You'll live the rest of your life like you're living it now."

"What's wrong with how I'm living now?"

"Nothing! But your dad did a lot for you, more than you know. You should get this money for him. Don't let your mom spend it on pills and booze."

It was Sally's turn to stand up.

"You've ruined the beach," she said to Robbie. She wiped the sand off her dress and walked off.

2

That night, Sally couldn't sleep. She didn't know if it was grief or what Robbie had said; it was probably a combination. Through the wall she could hear the muffled sound of the television. She saw its pulsing glow from under the door. She tossed and turned anxiously, until finally resigning herself to staring at the ceiling.

Her thoughts went back to the movie theatre, where her and her dad would go on Sundays. They always did the matinee showing and then they'd go get food somewhere near the cinema. They'd talk about the movie, what worked and didn't work. These were mundane, unexciting moments, but they meant everything to her. The way he drank from his straw. His use of malt vinegar. Patting his pockets when the cheque came.

Her yearning for memories past was interrupted by a tapping on her window. She ignored it at first, but then she heard it again. She got out of bed, went to the window and pushed back the curtain. There was Robbie, smiling at her. Sally's heart spun like a wound-up toy.

Sally opened the window and Robbie climbed in.

"Be quiet. She's in the other room," said Sally as she sat down on her bed.

Robbie quietly entered the room and closed the window behind her. She sat on the ledge and looked at her cousin. "I can't stop thinking about what you said," said Sally.

Robbie moved swiftly and sat down beside her.

"There are ways we can fix this," said Robbie. She looked keenly at Sally. Sally looked anywhere else but at Robbie.

"I don't know if I can trust you."

"Why would I lie?" asked Robbie. "I'm only trying to help you. Look at me." She took her hand and brought Sally's eyes to hers. "We're family."

Looking at Robbie made Sally's world fall away. She let out a surrendering sigh and fell into Robbie's arms.

"I don't know what to do," said Sally, muffled against her cousin's breast.

"We'll get you out of this," responded Robbie.

Sally lifted her head and looked at Robbie. "Stay here tonight. I can't sleep and I don't want to be alone."

"Okay. We can just lie here."

The two women lay in Sally's bed in each other's arms. It was deeply comforting for Sally.

That night, in hushed whispers, they arranged everything. Robbie had won Sally's trust and, with it, she explained her plan.

Robbie had thought of everything. How to do it. When to do it. What to do after.

Their plan was intermingled with sensual caresses and, in the dark of that night, lines blurred in ways that Sally had never experienced.

What she became sure of is that she could trust Robbie completely. In Sally's world, trust was equivalent to love. One could not exist without the other. Therefore, Sally loved Robbie, and that night confirmed it.

When Sally confessed that she wouldn't know what to do when she received her rightful money, Robbie soothed her with explanations of how to handle it so that she would keep it safe. When Sally wondered if she would be lonely without her parents, Robbie promised her that she would never leave her side.

They made an unbreakable pact that night and it was sealed with a kiss.

3

Thomasin had finally gone to the grocery store. She wore her sunglasses even though it was dark, and she felt that she had acted totally normal. Walking out with her paper bag, she just had to get home and she could have a drink, eat her food and have a decent night. She was still getting used to having to do everything herself. It turned out to be harder than she expected, especially when the fear would strike her and make it impossible to leave the house. Tonight, though, she was brave.

She made her way through the cold night and decided to take her usual shortcut through the alley. Everything was wearing off and she was in a hurry to get home so that she could stop feeling like this again.

"Aunt Thomasin," said a voice. Thomasin looked around but couldn't see anyone in the dark. From the shadow came Robbie, looking at her gravely.

"Robbie, you're still here? I thought you would've left town after the funeral."

"Why'd you kill him?"

"What're you talking about?"

"Your husband, Thomasin. Why'd you kill him?" Robbie was getting more angry by the second. Her incendiary words terrified Thomasin.

"I didn't kill him. Cancer did. What are you saying? Get out of my way."

Thomasin went to pass her, but Robbie stopped her again.

"How could you do that to your daughter? How could you steal her inheritance?"

Thomasin was frozen stiff.

Robbie forcefully took Thomasin's sunglasses off and threw them on the ground.

"What did you tell her?" asked Thomasin.

"She knows everything."

Thomasin's final look was one of confusion. She looked at her niece as if she had never seen her before. Indeed, this side of her was entirely new.

"Where's Sally?" asked Thomasin.

From behind, Sally approached. That magical night she had shared with Robbie now fuelled her passion. Robbie's promises still lingered in her mind. Her kisses still tickled her lips. Memories that she knew would happen again. Not like now. This would be all over soon and it would never come back.

Sally swung the brick and connected with the side of Thomasin's head. It did not break into a million pebbles like she feared, but instead held firm. Groceries went everywhere and the woman fell to the ground. Robbie stepped back, shocked at the violence now that it had become reality.

In that brief moment of silence, with her mother gushing blood on the pavement and Robbie frozen in sadistic intrigue, Sally could faintly hear the ocean.

Sally mounted her mother and swung the brick rapidly down upon her head over and over. As she did, flashes of her father fogged her memory. Tears started pouring from her eyes.

Every swing felt like a release. The emotions that had festered in Sally's soul since her father's diagnosis finally emptied. They were liberated through violence and it left her with a feeling of elation, like the tide had finally gone out.

She dropped the brick and let out a primal scream. She screamed her father's name. Over and over, she screamed.

Dogs began to bark. Porch lights started to turn on.

Sally cried at the corpse of Thomasin. She had finally let it out.

"What the hell is going on back there?" shouted a voice in the dark.

Robbie, jolted back to reality, grabbed Sally and dragged her back to her feet.

"We have to go," said Robbie, quietly.

"Daddy," whimpered Sally.

“I'm here,” replied Robbie. She helped the drained girl to her feet. “I'm here.”

Robbie tossed Sally's arm over her neck and hobbled her out of the alleyway.