Closing the door softly so as not to wake him, I backed out of the room and headed down the hall to the boys’ bathroom. Stepping inside and closing the door, I dropped my black bag and my thrift store finds onto the counter.
In minutes I had the dress on, the distinct fragrance of moth balls filling my nostrils. The shoes were a perfect fit. Once I had the mask on, I stood in front of the full-length mirror on the back of the door and examined the final product.
Staring back at me was the face of Lucy Ricardo. I couldn’t help but smile at my reflection. I looked ridiculous and perfect at the same time.
After a few more minutes of admiration, I climbed out of the ensemble and stashed both bags in the very back of the cupboard in the vanity. They would be safe there until the next morning when I could get the whole lot to Claire’s house.
I spent the rest of the night pacing and unsettled. Finally, I plopped on the couch and turned the television on to something mindless. Completely consumed with my thoughts, I didn’t even hear Andy at first when he entered the family room, finally awake from his nap.
“I talked to Tommy today,” Andy said.
“What?” I jumped up off the couch at the sound of his voice. My nerves were wound as tight as springs.
My husband eyed me suspiciously before continuing. “I said, I saw Tommy today. He says he saw you walking along the Boulevard. What were you doing over in Pembroke?”
“Nothing. Just a little window shopping at the mall.” I tried hard to keep my voice steady. Andy always knew when I was lying. I avoided his probing eyes. I could literally feel them burning into the top of my head but still I refused to meet his gaze.
“Susie, you never go to that mall. Why were you walking the Boulevard?” His tone had turned firm, demanding I explain myself. It was his cop voice. I’d be damned if I was going to let him bully me with his cop voice.
Sitting up and scooting over into the corner of the sofa, I glared at him. “Don’t you dare talk to me like I’m one of your bad guys! I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I had to get out of the house. Your mother is making me freaking crazy!” As my voice got louder, I rose from the couch and backed away from Andy. I hoped the change in conversation to his mother would take the heat off of me. It worked. Better than I wanted it to.
Andy’s face turned red with anger. “She’s driving you crazy, huh? The woman does all the cleaning, all the laundry, and cooks every meal. She takes care of the boys and goes to the market. Boy, that must be hard to deal with!” Anger and sarcasm colored his words. I felt bad instantly. All that he had said was true and I did appreciate her help. I just wanted her out of my house.
Lowering my voice so as not to be overheard elsewhere in the house, I said, “Andy, I appreciate all that she has done but don’t you think it is time for her to go home? I am fine now. I can manage my own home and take care of my own children. It’s not like I have a job to get to.” Even as I spoke the words, a shot of sharp, agonizing pain stabbed me in the left side of my brain. I winced and rubbed at both temples with my fingers, willing it to pass quickly. The pains had been coming more frequently with more strength over the last several days but I had worked hard to ignore them in the excitement of what the girls and I were working on.
Andy stepped closer to me, I retreated a step away from him. The anger left his eyes, replaced by something else. Pity? “What’s wrong, Susie?” I could hear the fear and concern loud and clear, making me feel like a giant heel.
“Nothing.” This one hurt more than the others but I would be damned if I let Andy know what was happening. “It’s just a tension headache. You know I don’t like it when we fight.”
He stepped up in front of me and took me by both shoulders with his large hands. “How long has this been going on?” He demanded.
“How long has what been going on?” I whispered trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably. The pain was horrible. I leaned against the wall behind me as Andy’s form wavered in front of me.
“Don’t be coy with me, Susie. I’m not in the mood.” His voice was firm, commanding.
“Fine. I have headaches all the time. They come and go all day long but usually they are dull, annoying. Occasionally they hurt like hell.”
“And this is one of those hurt like hell times?” Andy’s tone had softened significantly.
“Yes.” The word barely made a sound as it left my lips.
“The neurologist said you could have headaches and possibly seizures for months. The swelling on your brain was horrendous, Susie. You have no idea how close….”
“How close? What are you talking about?” I asked.
He swiped at the moisture pooling in his eyes with the back of his hand. “How close you came…. How close I came to losing you.”
I stepped closer, wrapped my arms around him and rested my head on his chest. The steady thu…thump of his heart calmed me. “I’m going to be fine, Andy. I haven’t had a single seizure yet…”
“Yes, you have. A couple really bad ones, actually. Grand Mal.”
I stepped back and looked up at Andy. He was completely serious. His eyes even held a little fear in them. “Two? When?”
“The first couple of days after the accident were the worst. There was so much trauma, they wanted to know if you had an advance directive, if you were an organ donor. No one thought you would make the night, let alone ever wake up again!” There were more tears glistening in the corners of his eyes. In all the years we had been together, I had never seen my husband cry. Not even when his father passed away.
“Oh, Andy. I had no idea…”
“They said if you did survive the night, you would be in a coma. And you were. For almost three weeks. No one thought you would wake up. So, excuse me if I am a little concerned about you and it bothers me to find our you are walking up and down Virginia Beach Boulevard when you should be home getting well.” His voice lost its edge as it cracked on the last word. He turned his head away from me.
I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder but he just shrugged it off.
“I have to get ready for work.” Andy walked away without another word.
I stood in the middle of the room flabbergasted. No one had told me things had gotten that serious. As far as I knew, I hit my head, slept for three weeks, woke up and went home. Why would Andy keep all of that from me?
A sharp ache in my brain told me exactly why.
The slam of the front door told me Andy had left. He didn’t even yell good bye. I brushed the tears away. Maybe it was for the best. He wouldn’t have any more time to ask me questions I didn’t want to answer.
Once we got caught up on the mortgage and the other bills, my husband could stop pulling double shifts at least. No more long nights on the streets, a two-hour nap and then long days back on the streets doing undercover work and construction details. Maybe we could be happy again someday.
By the time I changed clothes and got into bed, it was after ten. Not having slept at all the night before, it took me mere seconds to fall into a deep sleep.
The sun shone brightly into my bedroom when I awoke the next morning. I sat up and stretched, feeling completely relaxed for the first time in months. I had even forgotten about my argument with Andy. And then I saw the clock. It was quarter after nine and I needed to be at Claire’s house in forty-five minutes.
Jumping out of bed, I ran to our small bathroom and hopped into the shower. As the icy cold water poured over my skin I hugged myself tightly and waited for the spray to slowly warm.
Five minutes later, I was clean and dressed. I ran down the hall to dig out my costume supplies from the cabinet in the boys’ bathroom.
Not even bothering to say goodbye to Andy’s mother, I slammed the front door and took off at a run down the block. The bus pulled up at its stop at the same time I did, panting and sweaty. The tight bun that had been my hair had fallen out and long, wet strands clung to my face. My head throbbed with the effort of running.
Cli
mbing the bus stairs, I dropped my coins in the slot and made my way to the first empty seat. Doing my best to smooth my tangled hair back, I waited as my breathing calmed down some. Apparently, I was way out of shape from a three week coma. And now I had to worry about seizures.
By the time the bus pulled up down the street from Claire’s house, it was already five minutes past ten. Still, I walked the distance to her place from the bus stop, Andy’s words from the night before ringing in my ears. Grand Mal seizures. Not one but two. This added a new dimension to my survival and recovery—fear.
For how long should fear be a part of my life? A few weeks? A couple of months? A year? The rest of my life?
Tears welled up in my eyes and began leaking down my cold, chapped cheeks. I didn’t even bother to brush them away.
The impact of it all suddenly hit. I had a brain injury. Brain injuries were serious. I could have died from a brain injury.
But I didn’t. Not yet, anyway.
So now I had to worry about poverty, homelessness and death.
I kicked hard at a rock on the sidewalk. Life was so grand.
Laura paced the porch of Claire’s house. “Hey, girl.”
“There you are!” The relief so obvious in Laura’s expression made me feel even worse. “Where have you been?”
“I overslept. Sorry.” I climbed the porch steps with my head down, wiping at my eyes with the back of my hand.
“Susie! What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I whispered, keeping my gaze on the ground. “Let’s go in. Claire is probably going crazy wondering where we are.”
She reached both arms out and held me on the shoulders. “Susie. Susie! Look at me.” Her voice was firm, insistent.
I slowly raised my head until my red, watery eyes met her questioning ones.
“What is going on Susie?”
“Did the doctors expect me to live or to die?” I asked in a small voice.
“What? Where did that come from?”
“Come on, Laura. Answer my question.”
“All right. Fine. Things didn’t look good in the beginning. Ok?” Laura snapped.
“What exactly does that mean? ‘Didn’t look good’? I demanded.
“Susie, what’s going on here? Why are you so upset?” Concern and fear hung thick in Laura’s words.
“Andy and I had a fight last night.” I avoided her eyes, ashamed to admit that Andy and I weren’t the perfect couple others believed we were.
“So? You think you are the first married couple to ever have a fight? Come on! Wanna come to my house tonight? Not a day goes by …”
“I know!” I interrupted her. “I know we aren’t the only ones and it wasn’t the first time for God’s sake. It was what he said during the fight!”
“Well, what did he say?”
“He… he told me that the trauma to my brain was so severe I suffered seizures in the hospital and the doctors felt I would never come out of my coma.”
Laura nodded. “All of that is true but what does it matter? You are here now and you are fine.”
The tears started flowing uncontrollably then. I turned my back on my friend and fought to gain control. I felt Laura’s hand on my back but shrugged it off.
“But I’m not fine! My head hurts all the time. Andy won’t leave me alone. He is afraid of me having a seizure while I am alone with the kids. A seizure… or worse.”
“Give him a break, Susie. It’s only been a few weeks. He’s scared. He almost lost you. He’s a strong man but not without his limits.”
“I know. I know.” I dropped my head, covering my eyes with my hands. “But what about now? The rest of our lives? Is he going to be watching over me forever? Am I going to die suddenly? What about the boys?”
“Whoa! Slow down!” Laura laughed tersely. “Who said anything about sudden death?”
“Well,” I stamped my foot for effect, “isn’t that what this is all about? Why Andy wants me to have a constant babysitter?”
“Andy is scared. You are the love of his life. He almost lost you. What do you expect from the man?” Laura’s tone had turned forceful, demanding almost.
I turned my back to the house and studied a giant pine tree in the front yard. What Laura said made sense and I supposed that a small part of my mind knew that what she said was true. On the other hand, could I live my life with the chances of seizures and neurological issues hanging over me forever?
What choice did I have?
I turned back to face my friend. “I am not used to my husband being afraid. He is never afraid of anything. This is foreign ground for us.”
Laura laughed. “When Andy is afraid of something, he shoots it! He can’t shoot this. He can’t even arrest it. Give the man time to recover, ok?” She smiled, reaching a hand out to touch my arm.
I smiled back, reluctantly. “All right.” I sighed. “All right. I will give him a little time but I gotta say, if his mother survives this, it will be a miracle!”
Laura tossed an arm over my shoulders and hugged me to her as she rang the doorbell of Claire’s house. “Come on, friend. We have a bank to rob. Let’s get inside and make some plans.”
“And make Willie Sutton proud!” I laughed a little.
Suddenly the door opened and there stood Claire. “Well, it’s about time you two got here!”
I laughed again as Laura and I stepped through the door. “Yeah, I’m here. I just took a roundabout sort of way to get here!”
12
Grudging Acceptance
Becca already had a seat when Laura and I followed Claire into the sitting room.
“Hey, girls!”
“Hey, yourself,” Laura answered.
"Hi, Becca." I waved as I settled myself down in an oversized, wing backed chair while Laura joined Becca on the sofa. I was emotionally drained from my conversation with Laura and the events at home with Andy but I was also exccited. The bags containing my costume and the masks sat on my lap and I couldn’t wait to share them with the girls.
“So,” Claire clapped her hands together as she stood in front of us. “Did you all get a chance to accomplish the things we talked about?”
She turned to Becca. “Did you see the vault?
“I did. I went back to the bank yesterday and spoke to someone about a safe deposit box. She let me see the room where the boxes are housed. It’s sort of the equivalent of an enclosed porch to the main vault. There are no windows and only one way in.”
“So, what did it look like?” Claire asked.
“Relax already, Claire! I’m getting there!” Claire had never been a patient person and today it looked like she was about to crawl out of her skin waiting for the information Becca had for her.
“Whatever.” Claire crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “Just tell us what you saw.”
“Unlike the rest of the building, the safe is not very old. It operates on a time delay system.”
“Oh, crap. I was hoping to avoid that,” Claire muttered.
“It’s OK though Claire. I overheard some of the tellers talking. The vault opens every day at ten, twelve, two, four and five thirty and stays open for about ten minutes while they load up the drawers and stuff. And this is the best part—there is a second safe. A smaller one inside the safe deposit room where money is held between openings. The main vault may not even matter.”
Claire nodded. “We could definitely make that work. If they have a storage place like that, we really don’t need to worry about the vault.”
“Wait, there’s more.”
“What else could there be?” Laura asked Becca.
“The armored car company delivers money at nine thirty and guess where they keep the cash?”
“In the smaller safe?” I asked but I already knew the answer. Becca’s face was an open book.
“Of course.” Claire clapped her hands together. “That’s the mark then. I bet the key to the safe was on that key ring the head teller wore.”
�
�So we hit the bank right after the money delivery and walk out a whole lot richer?” Laura said thoughtfully.
“And we do it in costume.” I spoke up, my excitement building. “I found the masks!” Pulling the masks from the black plastic bag I passed them around until each woman had one.
“These are terrific,” Claire commented as she examined hers. She held the mask up to her face and glanced at her reflection in a mirror on the wall behind the chair she sat in. “Very good. A perfect Lucy Ricardo likeness.”
“Well, I love it!” Becca exclaimed as she put hers on. “It will go perfectly with my costume.” She grabbed a white bag off the floor. Inside was a light grey set of coveralls and a kerchief.
“Why coveralls?” I asked.
“From my favorite episode!” Becca bounced in her seat with excitement. “Remember the one where Lucy worked in the chocolate factory? And she couldn’t keep up so she started stuffing candies in her mouth?”
“Oh! Right! I know exactly the episode you mean! Good choice, Becca.”
Both Claire and I pulled out our costumes. We had each chosen a basic I Love Lucy dress and shoes, the sort of dress Lucy wore when she was following Ricky around trying to talk her way out of whatever trouble she'd gotten herself into.
“I’ve got my costume too,” Laura said. “What do you think?” She held up a white, off the shoulder peasant blouse and a calf length grey skirt complete with petticoats. It could have been the very outfit worn by Lucy in the episode where she learned to stomp grapes. She even had almost the exact same kerchief to tie over her hair.
“Oh my goodness, Laura! It’s perfect!”
Laura smiled. "Thanks, Bec."
Claire looked around the room at each of us. “I think old Willie Sutton would be proud!”
So, this is it?” Laura asked. “We have the clothes, we have the mark. All we need now is a plan.”
Glancing at my watch, I was shocked it was already after eleven. “Well, I hate to do this but I have to go. I actually have a follow up appointment with the neurologist this afternoon. I need to talk to him about these damned headaches.” As if on cue, a sharp pain shot through the left side of my brain. At the same time my right hand twitched.
The Heist Page 6