With Love from the Inside by Angela Pisel Page B

said their vows separated by glass. “Probably the safest husband she’s ever had,” one of the officers joked.
    Carmen was known to many as the Candy Bar Killer for adding various toxic concoctions to the baked goods of husbands one through three. We’d never talked about her convictions or her motivations, but one time while flipping through
Taste of Home
, Carmen said, “I made this crunchy layered caramel cake once for my second husband.”
    I looked for the November issue of
Woman’s Day
. I saved the calendars out of the back of each issue from the section called Month of Menus.Some housewives, I supposed, used this section and its handy shopping guide to plan meals for their families. I could picture them whipping up the Brown Sugar Meatloaf and mashed potatoes while their children fought over who licked the mixing spoons.
    I had a much simpler use for the Month of Menus. I used it to mark off my remaining days.

SOPHIE
    â€œHe’s hurting my ears,” Sophie cried, her glittery
purple fingernails pressed hard against the sides of her head.
“Make him stop crying!” Her mom tried to console William,
jiggle him up and down, but nothing she did seemed
to work. Baby William’s body didn’t look squishy anymore. He
looked hard and unbending, like her Sabrina baby doll with
the blue shiny eyes that didn’t move.
    â€œUncle Thomas, she’s still saying funny things!” Vivianne yelled. The screech in the little girl’s voice startled Sophie.
    She opened her eyes but had no idea where she was. The dark room gave her few clues, although the sage-green chenille curtains looked familiar. She tried to lift her head and look around, but it felt heavy and sore.
    Sophie blinked her eyes and tried to focus. She could see Vivianne sitting crossed-legged at the end of her bed, drawing chubby hearts up and down each of her tiny thighs with a strawberry-scented marker.
    â€œUse your coloring book,” Thomas told her as he walked back into the bedroom.
    Thanksgiving. The Logan family.
It was all coming back to her. Sophie sat up on the side of the bed and tried to stand, but the moving room caused her to almost tip over.
    â€œSlow down.” Thomas grabbed her arm to steady her.
    â€œWhat happened to me?”
    â€œYou fainted,” Thomas said, his wide clinical eyes examining hers. Sophie pictured him putting on his lab coat, stethoscope around his neck, and asking her how long she’d been experiencing these strange symptoms. She knew as soon as he cupped her face he was not looking at his wife but for symmetry in the pupils of a normally healthy twenty-nine-year-old female.
    â€œThought of a good sale made you that excited, huh?”
    Sophie grimaced and removed his scrutinizing hand from her chin. She reached around and felt the large egg on the back of her head.
    â€œQuite a bump.” He helped her lie back down. He tucked the comforter in all around her and sat down beside her. “How are you feeling?”
    â€œUncoordinated,” Sophie joked. Her attempt at humor made her head throb even more.
    â€œYou’ve been out for a while.” He brushed the hair away from her eyes and kissed her on the forehead. The concerned look in his eyes told her he was her husband once again. “I was getting worried.”
    â€œI don’t remember passing out.”
    â€œCaroline said you told her you didn’t feel well. Nauseated?”
    Sophie started to remember. Her mom and dad, their last Thanksgiving together, William in his high chair. Carter. The newspaper.
    The room and her stomach started to move again. She closed her eyes and prayed she wouldn’t throw up.
Is my mom going to die?
    â€œAre you okay, Aunt Sophie?” Vivi mimicked Thomas and used her scented marker to look into Sophie’s eyes.
    For a moment, right after the nausea passed, Sophie considered answering that question honestly, blurting out to the both of