Sure, after three kids, she gained some weight. And yeah, I missed the thin young woman; long shapely legs, straight golden blond hair, and breasts that stood out with no help from me or her clothes. As my girlfriend, she was uninhibited, as my wife; she was without shame, I’d say.
You see, Officer, I’m not an ignorant man; I know women change, as do men. My hair thinned. She shrugged it off. I developed a paunch; it bothered me more than her and I worked to get rid of it. My wife changed little in attitude. Her weight gain didn’t bother her and to be frank, as I grew older, I kind of liked the thicker hips and stronger arms.
No, sir, the issue wasn’t that she grew older and looked older because she was still beautiful for her age. No, the problem was her eyes. She squinted. Something happened when her eyesight started to go. She squinted to see minor details. She squinted when cleaning the kitchen sink. She squinted when cooking. I noticed that when she squinted, a facade…slipped.
Color? Her eyes? Blue. The ice blue of any Nordic maiden. Her dad and mom were both Swedes. Blonde, tall and beautiful, just like her. Her Dad died some years back and I regret to hear her mother has taken this… situation badly.
You know I told my wife to damnit just wear glasses, but she is… was stubborn. I tried to reason with her but she had that LASIK thing done and sure, her distance improved, but her squinting became worse. Worse! And let me tell you, Officer, she wasn’t the same woman when she squinted. She wasn’t! God’s truth.
Anyway, we were up at the cabin, just her and I. The kids were coming up later. David and Ella were coming that night. Jeff and his new wife (I don’t know how many he will end up with… the nervous sort is our Jeff) Janice were expected sometime. My darling Kimmy, who I don’t think will ever marry, was to show up at 8:30 the next morning. My wife kept the schedules. I won’t be on time for another thing.
David and Ella are pregnant with their first and my wife is very conscious of food. I was helping with the dishes because, you know, that cabin kitchen is small, a coffee cup and plate makes the place look overloaded. We had soup, vegetable, on the stove and fresh bread. Any minute, I was waiting to hear the approach of David’s car. Suddenly my wife has this brainstorm to make a batch of cookies. I tell her, no; she had worked that day. We drove up to the cabin; we worked to clean and air the place out. You know all the things you do when the kids are coming. I told her no; we were both tired; we didn’t need cookies, for the love of Mike.
Do you know what she did? She wrinkled her nose at me, squinty eyes and all. I kept it together that time. I knew she was nervous. Anyway, the kids were running a late and she, by golly, was going to make a batch of cookies; David’s favorite. Peanut butter. Not much to tell after that. She started in and I kept washing dishes. Fate, because I was washing the serrated bread knife. She was measuring out the soda or the baking powder; I don’t know which, and she squinted those ice-blue eyes.
Did I mention she was a different woman when she squinted? Yeah, well, you weren’t there. She squinted, you see. Right before me, as her eyes narrowed, her upper lip lifted. It seemed to me her canines elongated and her skin seemed to tinge a lime green. What shocked me the most was her hair, grey-blonde, lifted and tangled in like lightning speed. She looked like a mad scientist–mad. In went the soda or the backing powder and presto-bango she was the woman I married in a blink of an eye. But I saw it. I saw what she was. It took me over 40 years but I saw and without so much as a blink; I cut her throat.
Shocking, really, my own strength. Adrenalin, I suppose. She didn’t suffer. Well, maybe a little bit, but it was over quickly. I will say I could see the young woman I married, despite the blood (lots of that) before her soul left her body. But her eyes, you see, I finally… what can I say… her eyes looked, I suppose, innocent? I can tell you one thing officer, I wasn’t overjoyed or anything, but I was oddly…content. It was like getting an answer to a lifelong question. Funny, huh? David and Ella were shocked, of course; the knife was still in my hand. I don’t know how long I was standing there thinking of her last expression. No questions, no accusations, no surprise, just a sort of smugness. Then I hear this soft voice saying, Dad?
I was mortified he had to see his mother like that. I tried to explain, but you know, you see your mother with her throat gaping open and blood all over, explanations are difficult. You know, I get his anger. He might thank me someday that he never had to see his mother morph into a witch. It all could have been avoided if she had worn glasses like her mother. I mean, her dad and I talked about it, and he always warned me–it’s the eyes that will get you, son, the eyes.