The strangest thing about it is how EJ sounds toward the end of the tape. His voice is almost slurred, but Dr. Hale doesn’t seem the slightest bit concerned. She’s a doctor, for God’s sake. Shouldn’t she be worried that her patient is slurring his speech?
EJ did mention drinking some wine. But if he’s anything like Ethan, even a bottle of wine isn’t enough to get him to slur his speech.
It’s strange.
Now that I have finished the stack of EJ tapes, I decide to take a break. I’ve been listening to tapes in here the entire afternoon, and the sun has now dropped in the sky. It looks like we are definitely going to be spending another night here.
I don’t know what to tell Ethan. He wants to buy this house, but I just can’t imagine it. I love him, but not enough to live here.
I slide off my gold wedding band, remembering the first time Ethan slipped it onto my finger. Years ago, before I knew Ethan, I had been engaged to another man, and we had been planning a giant wedding, but it didn't end up working out. This time, all I wanted was a small, perfect ceremony. It was so intimate, and for a moment, while our eyes locked together at the altar, it was like the two of us were the only people in the world.
Ethan and I are meant for each other. I know it. I want to give him everything he wants, but I don’t know if I can give him this. This house.
I tilt the ring a bit so I can read the inscription. Ethan + Tricia Forever. I love that inscription… I read it sometimes to comfort me. I believe it with all my heart. Ethan and I are made for each other, and we will be together forever. Till death do us part.
A noise from outside the office startles me, and the ring slips from my fingers. Unfortunately, it lands on its side and starts to roll. It rolls all the way across the desk, onto the floor, and before I can stop it, it has rolled under the leather sofa.
Great. Just my luck.
I get down on my knees and elbows on the floor. The base of the sofa is low to the floor, with less than an inch of space between them. It’s also pushed up against the wall. I squint underneath, but everything is dark. I can’t even tell where my ring might have gone under there.
My purse is on the desk, so I grab my phone from inside and turn on the flashlight function. I can see a bit, but mostly dust bunnies. I don’t see any sign of a ring reflecting the light from my phone.
Damn it.
I try to reach underneath the couch, but there isn’t enough space down there. I can get my hand underneath about to my wrist, and then it will go no farther.
I straighten up, realizing too late that I should have taken the white cashmere sweater off before getting down on my elbows. I do my best to brush off the dust, then I consider my options.
There’s no way I’m going to reach that ring without moving the couch. I could attempt to move it on my own but I don’t know if it’s a good idea while I’m pregnant. I’ve heard you’re not supposed to do a lot of heavy lifting.
That leaves one option. I have to get Ethan to help me move it.
He’s probably still upstairs working. Or the sound that startled me was him coming down for dinner. Either way, he’ll be happy to help me with the couch. He loves doing stuff like that. Damsel in distress, etc., etc.
When I come out of Dr. Hale’s office, the first floor is silent. Ethan isn’t down here. I don’t hear anyone down here. He must still be working upstairs.
And then I hear a creaking sound from upstairs. And then something that almost sounds like a door slamming shut.
That must’ve been Ethan. I already know he’s working up there. He probably went to the bathroom or something. There’s no reason to worry.
I mount the spiral staircase, irritated that the hall light is off upstairs. There are too many light switches in this house. Of course, Ethan would argue that’s something easy to fix. We could put in a switch downstairs that could control the upstairs hall light. Or we could have a sensor that would turn it on automatically as we walk up the stairs.
When I get to the top of the steps, the first thing I do is flick on the light. I breathe a sigh of relief as the hallway fills with light, albeit dim. I hate this house when it’s dark. I feel so much better when the lights are on.
Until I notice that the pullcord for the attic, hanging from the ceiling, is swaying. Like the trapdoor to the attic was recently in motion.
It could be the wind. But it’s not that windy inside the house. And even if there were a slight breeze, it’s still swinging quite a bit.
I can’t think about that right now though. I’ll tell Ethan about the ring, we’ll get it back, and then I’ll have him check out the attic. It’s not negotiable. I’m not moving into his house unless he checks up there.