Read Online In the Shadows of Children by Alan Ryker - Free Book Online

found his mother. Aaron had considered himself to be the most impacted by her death—she was his mother, after all—but this was her best friend, the woman who’d nursed her in sickness, who’d visited with her most every day. She’d come over that Sunday morning because Phyllis Conlin hadn’t liked driving and so always rode with the Jackmans to church.
    “This smells fantastic,” Aaron said. “Would you mind keeping me company while I eat?”
    Mrs. Jackman pulled her moist eyes away from the spot where his mother had died, put on a weak smile and said, “Of course. That way I’ll know you’ve actually eaten some of it.”
    Aaron led the way to the kitchen, and after putting on a pot of coffee to brew, sat down and peeled the foil off the platter. The aroma of pancakes, turkey bacon and scrambled eggs made his stomach audibly gurgle in anticipation.
    Cutting a wedge out of the fluffy stack of pancakes, he crammed his mouth full. It was so good, so buttery. But dry.
    “I didn’t want them to get soggy. Would you like some syrup?” Mrs. Jackman asked.
    Aaron looked up at the cabinets. He didn’t have any idea where his mother kept the syrup.
    Mrs. Jackman stood and circled the table, stretching to reach into a cabinet next to the refrigerator and grab a bottle of Karo. She sat it down on the table beside Aaron, then got two mugs and began preparing their coffee.
    “Cream and sugar?” she asked.
    Aaron nodded, unable to speak through a second mouthful of pancakes, this one syrup-laden. She sat a mug before him, and he sloshed some steaming coffee into his mouth, the food there buffering his tongue from the heat.
    He finally managed to swallow. “This is delicious. Thank you so much.”
    “It’s nice to watch a young man enjoy my cooking. No matter what my figure says, we old people don’t like eating much, but we can enjoy it vicariously.”
    The Jackmans’ had their son and their grandkids. His mother had died alone.
    “I guess the lesson is, don’t get old,” Mrs. Jackman said with a laugh.
    “I guess so,” he said, taking a more reasonably sized bite of scrambled eggs. He knew only one person who’d followed Mrs. Jackman’s advice, and it didn’t seem to have worked out so well for him.
    “Have you made much progress?” she asked, looking around as if the evidence of his past few days’ work would be there in the kitchen.
    “Not really. It’s gone very slowly.”
    “It does. I remember going through my parents’ things. It took weeks.” She glanced around the kitchen again, and Aaron realized that she wasn’t looking for signs of his progress. She’d been looking around ever since she stepped through the door, and he’d misinterpreted, expecting to be judged for running away. What he saw in her face when she didn’t know he was watching wasn’t judgment. It was fear.
    “Is something wrong?”
    “What? No.” But she was flustered.
    Over the past few days, everything had meant something. “You can tell me. You look nervous.”
    Meredith Jackman sighed deeply, took a sip of her coffee, and carefully sat it back on the table. She pressed her lips together, bringing out deep lines around her mouth. “It’s silly.”
    Aaron gave her an encouraging look.
    “Ever since it happened, I’ve had a bad feeling about this house.”
    “That’s understandable.”
    Mrs. Jackman shook her head. “Something wasn’t right. Your mother wasn’t clumsy, and she didn’t look like she’d just stumbled. I’m older than she was. I have friends who’ve fallen down the stairs, broken a hip. I’d seen them shuffling about before their accidents. They looked like it was bound to happen at some point. But they didn’t die.” Her lips clamped shut as she fought tears.
    “It’s not fair,” Aaron said.
    Mrs. Jackman shook her head. No, it wasn’t fair. There was more too it, though. Aaron didn’t want to push, but it seemed like she knew something. Had she seen something of the strangeness