Jennifer awoke for the second time that morning with the sense that something was missing. The old house still smelled of pancakes. Outside the wind whistled through the bare limbs of the trees. The children slept. Something had changed though. She felt empty.
Images of Thomas clouded her thoughts. Her husband had left before sunrise, dressed in the greens and browns that would allow him to enter the silent forest. There he would wait for this year’s kill. Most likely it would be a doe that had strayed unwittingly into the clearing. She would never even know what hit her.
The stillness of the house rang in Jennifer’s ears as dawn crept toward morning. Their two-year-old son,Toby, tossed feverishly beside her in his snap-bottom pajamas.
Soon Andrew would also awaken. Jennifer held onto these few precious moments of solitude. Everything seemed to be closing in on her lately and, and at the same time drawing away. The rooms of the house she had loved were now too small. Their third child was expected in the spring. They needed more room. The Miller house seemed the perfect solution. Ever since Christine Miller had died, three years earlier, the large house remained vacant. Jennifer and Thomas planned to rent the house until their small bungalow could be sold. It seemed the best solution, yet Jennifer felt uneasy about the move.
“Mama,” Andrew appeared at the foot of the bed. Toby stirred but didn’t wake, his breathing labored. “Can I watch cartoons?”
“May I?” Jennifer corrected sleepily. She nodded, pleased to see that Andrew’s football pajamas were still dry. She smiled at her four-year-old’s round face and tousled blonde hair.
“How about a kiss first?”
Andrew shuffled around to the side of the bed, planted a wet kiss on her cheek, and was off.
She heard the television blare from the next room as Andrew fumbled with the switches.
Leaving Tobias asleep on the bed, Jennifer climbed out from under the warm covers and tied her old robe around her swollen belly. She bent down awkwardly to retrieve her slippers from under the bed.
“I’m hungry!” Andrew announced from the doorway.
She pushed her feet into the slippers and followed him into the kitchen.
As she passed the counter, the newspaper headline caught her eye.
Burglars Strike Again. Antonville Falls Prey to Senseless Crime
…
A light rain started to fall as Jennifer buckled the boys into their car seats. She wondered absently if Thomas had packed his green parka. Tobias continued to run a light fever but Dr. Kramer only seemed mildly concerned.
He had filled out the prescription, scratching the order onto his little white pad.
Jennifer ran into Olivia Nash at Sandler’s Pharmacy.
“Have you heard, Jen? It’s happened again!
“What’s happened?” Jennifer knew better than to ask, she was anxious to be on her way. Too late, the words were out.
“Robbery!” The words seemed to reverberate along the bright isle of the pharmacy. Jennifer tugged at the hand of each son. She traced the length of the linoleum tile flooring with her eyes. The colorful plastic bottles on the metal racks were neatly spaced. Mrs. Nash’s eyes were cold. Jennifer felt them studying her, watching her face, waiting for a response.
The boys were growing fidgety. Toby’s little fingers felt too warm. Andrew was kicking the loose edge of a tile.
“Where was the robbery?” Jennifer asked finally, recalling the morning headline.
“Jansky’s place. Happened in broad daylight. Practically stripped one room. Took Paulette’s silver serving tray. Right nasty business it is at that!”
“I’ve started to lock the doors at night! Lived in this town for sixty-six years and never, mind you, never locked the doors before! “She paused to brush a white hair from her sleeve. “Had to drive into Caldwell to buy special locks. That makes three robberies now, three robberies in our own town. Who’s next? I shudder just to think of it.” Olivia’s face was flushed now, her eyes animated.
Jennifer smiled tentatively at the older woman. “Try not to worry, Mrs. Nash. They’ll catch the burglars soon.” She spoke with an assurance she did not feel.
She quickly paid for the medication and a coloring book and crayons. They had one more stop to make. Thomas would probably be home soon and she wanted to be back before her husband returned.
Jennifer pulled out of the pharmacy parking lot onto Highway 79. From there she made a left onto Lake Avenue, then another left into the Miller driveway.
Bubba and Paula Jansky lived across the street. It seemed strange to think that their house had been robbed. They would just have to be extra careful once they moved in. She was determined to rent the Miller house; at least until they could sell their small house. Maybe then they could even afford to buy the Miller’s large Victorian home.
She parked the car, unloaded the boys, and headed toward the back door.
The sound of their footsteps echoed through the two-story house. The empty rooms smelled musty. The floors and walls were bare. In her mind Jennifer was busy airing out and furnishing the rooms.
She imagined what the house would look like filled with their belongings. She recalled how it had looked, before Christine had died.
The rooms had been furnished with polished antiques. The house had been a peaceful retreat, solid and warm.
The children followed their mother up the stairs. On the top landing, she picked Toby up, placing him awkwardly on what was left of her hip and walked through the empty bedrooms. She wondered if the house would ever feel like theirs.
The cancer had attacked Christine without warning. It had eaten away at her. Destroying cells, invading almost every organ in her body. Leaving Christine vacant of life.
“Will we move my toys, Mama?”
Jennifer gazed at her son. “Of course, Andrew.” She forced a smile.
“And my teddy?”
“Why yes! “She hugged her youngest son.
They walked back down the steps. So much had changed. Christine was gone. Harold Miller had remarried and now lived on the east coast. He was very excited that they were moving into the house. He said how happy it made him to think that the rooms would once again be filled with laughter. Their laughter!
Jennifer wondered if she even had the right. Could they make Christine’s home their own? Here in the cold empty rooms she could almost hear Christine singing softly at the kitchen sink.
…
There was blood on the tailgate of the family’s station wagon. Thomas grinned with boyish pride as he pulled the remains of the doe from the reddened interior. The boys jumped about marveling at their father’s prowess.
“A beauty,” Thomas murmured, more to himself than to his family. “At least sixty pounds of sausage for the freezer!” He smiled at Jennifer.
As much as she wanted to share his enthusiasm she felt a gnawing sensation in the pit of her stomach.
She herded the boys back into the house and pulled corduroy jackets over their sweaters, and stocking caps over their ears. Around Toby’s nose she wrapped a brown scarf. They followed their father back outside, dancing like puppies through the large prints his boots left in the soft soil.
In the kitchen, Jennifer readied pots and pans. She knew that they’d be eating venison for dinner. The black iron skillet was ready on the front burner. Beans and onions began to simmer at the back of the stove.
She watched from the kitchen window as Thomas and the boys hung the doe from the bare limbs of the old oak tree. At one time she had hated the idea of hunting. Now she wasn’t sure what to think. She stood against the naked glass of the window.
The doe hung upside down from the tree. Thomas had already removed the organs. Steam still rose from the deer and she could see the soft puffs of air that the children’s breath made in the dim afternoon light.
The deer meat was especially tender that night. Jennifer knew that the protein would benefit their unborn baby.
“Did you go to the Harold’s place today, Jen?” Thomas asked as he took another bite of beans.
“I did.” It needs some work, but not a lot.” She decided not to mention the reservations she was feeling. The Jansky home was robbed,” she continued.
“I know. I saw the headlines this morning. “This old town just isn’t what it used to be,” he paused, “Jen, would you pass the salt?”
…
Long after the boys had fallen asleep, Thomas’s words stayed with her. As she climbed into bed that night emptiness seemed to invade her senses.
Had the town changed? Was the world full of thieves?
What made anyone believe that Antonville was different than any other town?
Christine, once vibrant, had been destroyed by cancer. Now Jennifer was taking over her home. A deer had roamed the woods this morning; now its flesh had merged with her own.
Wasn’t it all the same really? Was she different from the thieves who had entered the Jansky’s home uninvited? Was Thomas any different?
What gave them the right to make others’ lives their own? She realized that they’d also become more complete. In the giving and the taking, maybe it all came down to receiving.
She felt the baby flutter and roll. She closed her eyes, full of life.