by ML Nystrom
Garrett: Sounds good to me. I’ll call it in in and pick up on the way home.
Me: Cool. Love you.
Garrett: Love you too.
I clicked off and put the phone back. A light breeze came up from time to time, and I didn’t want the papers to get blown away. A few more folds and I had a paper crane finished. I tossed it into the basket next to me to join the others.
Life had settled some these past weeks, and I was glad for the respite. Some unanswered questions still existed and some stresses, but we got a few pieces of news that helped. The police still didn’t have any leads and I had to argue with my insurance company about the rate hike. They weren’t too pleased to pay out for two wrecked cars in such a short amount of time, but I was able to state my case and the increase wasn’t as bad as it could have been. They didn’t cancel me at least.
Garrett found out Joy had gotten even further in trouble. Her lover had gone back to his wife to “work things out,” so Joy staged a scene at the school and got fired because of it. She was desperate for money and had sold a lot of the expensive house furnishings online, trying to stay afloat. This was her motivation for making the play to get Garrett back. More than likely, she would have to sell the house at a loss and start over. I couldn’t say I felt sorry for her.
Funky Tom had stalked another woman at a karaoke place in Black Mountain. This time he got super aggressive and got himself arrested. He sat in jail the night my car got vandalized and was removed from the list of suspects. Sloane told me his mom paid his bail and did indeed drag his ass to church for the pastor to pray away the lustful demons inside him. Since she paid the bills, she cut off the Wi-Fi and cable to the house, effectively blocking him from the internet and his woman-bashing forums. She also stopped paying his car insurance and credit card bills, grounding him like a rebellious teenager. Sloane said the only places he could go were ones his mom would drive to. This amounted to work, home, the grocery store, and church. I didn’t feel sorry for him either.
Karl had emailed me several times. Conversational tidbits on what his daughter was doing and how much he missed me. I didn’t answer, as I really had nothing to say. Garrett didn’t like him, however I couldn’t see the man I lived with for nine years as the one who tried to run me off the road.
I hoped the bad stuff had finally come to an end and whoever had tried to mess with me moved on. The ladies at the yoga class still grumbled over who they thought it had been, but at this point, I was glad that it was over. I had an inn to open. The Yoga Spot had a successful opening too and I looked forward to being there for my sister and the other ladies. My life could resume and move forward.
My life with Garrett. He showed me his floor plan for my cottage, and it obviously included him in it. With all the work he did on the inn, the grounds, and the cottage, his imprint surrounded me. The deed only had my name on it, but this place was just as much Garrett’s as mine.
I folded another crane and added it to the pile. Garrett had found a place in my life to the point I couldn’t think of a future without him. Some experts say there are ten stages of love and some say there are only three. Romance, realization, conflict, connection, sexuality, whatever titles someone placed on them, Garrett and I moved through at lightning speed. We had come to the final spiritual or mature love stage and were connected in a way many people only dreamed about. Marriage? We had not discussed it yet, but I believed it would happen sometime. The commitment already existed between us, more solid than any piece of paper could declare.
Pal had started barking like mad from a spot on the other side of the inn when my phone rang.
“Hello, beautiful, gorgeous, fantastically talented woman of my dreams!”
I burst into laughter. “Hello yourself, Patrick. Why are you calling from Garrett’s phone?”
“Because he’s in the restaurant picking up ribs, and I stole his phone. His unlock pattern is ridiculously easy to figure out.”
“You’re not going to mess with it are you?” I stuck a finger in my ear to mute Pal’s noise.
“Not really. I’ll change his icons around a little. Last time I got his phone I took a picture of my dick and made it Joy’s profile pic. I promise I won’t do that to you.”
I laughed again but didn’t quite know what to say to that. The few times I’d been around Patrick, he’d been bigger than life, loud and obnoxious, but in a fun way. He worked hard at whatever job he did, which told me he could be serious and focused when needed. The rest of the time, life was a party and he wanted to be right in the middle. Angus stayed more in the background but partnered with his twin most of the time. Rarely did one appear without the other.
“Anyway, Angus and I are gonna crash your dinner party tonight before going to Gallaghers’. Hope that’s okay.”
Pal’s barks turned into snarls. “You’re welcome here anytime. Hold on for a second.” I took the phone away from my mouth and yelled, “Pal, you’d better not be tangling with another skunk!”
Patrick’s guffaw came to me faintly from the speaker. “Fuck, maybe Angus and I will skip dinner and head to the bar early. Don’t got time for no stinky dog when women are lined up for a piece of me. Have I told you I made up a new drink at Gallaghers’? It’s called a Penis Colossus. Modeled after me, of course.”
A loud crack sounded at the same time Pal yelped with pain. I still held the phone away from my ear, and Patrick’s tone changed. “Shit, that was a gunshot! Bertie, what’s happening?”
“I don’t know. Pal’s hurt.”
“Angus, call 911. I’ll go get Garrett. Fuck, you gotta gun or something?”
“No, I don’t… I—” Hollow steps sounded close by and I froze.
“Hang up now,” a new voice growled. A woman stood at the end of my porch. She held a gun pointed at me in one hand and the other cradled one of those front baby slings. I could hear the cries from the occupant of the sling along with Pal’s cries.
Patrick’s voice came to me as I froze. “What the fuck… Bertie, what’s going on?”
“Uh… Damaris?”
The woman smirked and jiggled the baby. “So you know who I am? I didn’t think you’d remember me.”
Patrick came over the speaker. “Damaris? Who the hell is Damaris?”
The woman’s face grew thunderous. “Hang up that fucking phone. Now.”
“Shit, Bertie! Don’t hang up. Don’t—”
I clicked off and slowly placed the phone on the table. “What do you want, Damaris?”
“I want you to get the fuck out of Karl’s life.” Her sharp snap set the baby off again. Renewed wails filled the air. “He’s through with you, but you won’t leave.”
My mouth dried up as fear took hold. “I’m not in Karl’s life anymore. We’re divorced and live in two different cities. He and I don’t talk or email or anything anymore. For goodness sake, Damaris, he married and had a child with you. I’m not a threat.”
She twisted her lips up, and the gun trembled in her hand. “Yes, you are. You’re still in his life. I hear it all the fucking time how I don’t live up to your goddamn sainthood.”
Her tone turned sarcastic. “Bertie didn’t cook squash like that. Bertie did it this way. Bertie watched my scary movies even though she didn’t like them. Bertie had hobbies. Bertie made paper things all the time. Bertie paid for her own stuff. Bertie cleaned the house or got a housekeeper. Bertie liked my jokes. Bertie, Bertie, Bertie, fucking Bertie!”
Her screech set the baby to crying louder. I did my best to keep calm and set a reasonable tone in my voice, but my eyes stayed riveted on the gun in her shaky hand. “I think that’s something you need to talk to Karl about. I haven’t been back to Charlotte since I moved here last year. I swear to you, I’m not with him anymore and haven’t been for a long time.”
I might as well have tried to reason with a plaster wall. Damaris had gone so far in her head, not even her daughter’s distress could break through. “I fell in love with Karl the moment I saw
him. It took me years to get him to notice me, and when he finally did, I still had to convince him he loved me more than you. I thought giving him a baby would get him to love me more. He loves Isabel more than anything, but he still doesn’t want me. He hasn’t slept with me in weeks, since he found out she really wasn’t his. All he talks about anymore is how much he misses you.”
Her eyes glazed over as she spoke, and I kept as still and silent as I could. Karl never set the sheets on fire when he and I were married. His lack of interest didn’t surprise me, but I wasn’t about to say that to Damaris.
“You never got the hint. I drove up here to make you go away so many times. I tried to set your house on fire by puncturing the oil tank and then lighting matches in the holes, but that fucking dog started barking. I followed you to the movies hoping to scare off that boyfriend of yours by dumping shit on you and embarrassing him. I pushed you off the road, and you were supposed to die, but of course you didn’t, and I got to hear Karl be all concerned about you. I’ve come up there to this city so many damn times to finish the job, but you always had people around you. I got so sick of it, I fucked up your car when I wasted another trip here.”
Her eyes glazed over. “So much time and so much planning. I just want him to love me.”
I couldn’t tell if she planned on crying or getting angry again. She sounded like she had gone into a fugue state of depression. Isabel’s fussing continued, but Mommy didn’t pay attention. My worries of the moment centered on getting myself and the baby out of danger. “Karl is not in love with me, Damaris, or I him. I’m in love with someone else now and we have a future planned. I’m not your enemy nor your competition.”
Her vacant stare hit my eyes and the gun wavered as she pointed it to the ground. I lowered my hands and backed up as if heading inside. “I have some really big baskets and a bunch of quilts that would make a great temporary bassinette for Isabel. Let me go get one, and you can set her down for a nap.”
“He asked for a divorce.”
I stopped moving at the deadness in her voice. The gun in her hand steadied as she lifted it again at me. “Karl won’t love me like he does you unless you’re dead. You have to die. You just have to.”
She was working her way up to shoot me. My heart raced, and my mind blanked. The gun came up higher, and I braced myself.
“Damaris, what the hell are you doing? Put that down before someone gets hurt.”
Karl stepped around the side of the porch. I wondered briefly why he’d showed up and quickly dismissed that question. If anyone could talk Damaris down, perhaps he could. The confusion on her face indicted her distress. The gun wobbled, and I held my breath that she wouldn’t pull the trigger by mistake.
“Karl? How did you find me?”
Karl looked like he’d aged a thousand years since I saw him last. The lines around his mouth had deepened, and dark circles rested under his eyes. “Isabel’s nanny called me. She came to the house and found no one there. She’s mad because she doesn’t get paid unless she works her hours, and she didn’t get any notice about you being gone today. You’ve been so unpredictable lately, I had a tracking app installed on your phone and used it to find you.”
He took a step toward the distraught woman. “Why are you here?”
Tears flowed down Damaris’s face. “You can’t love me like you love her if she stays alive. I have to kill her. We have to kill her to be happy again.”
“I’m happy now.”
I heard the false note in his tone, and Damaris did too.
“You asked for a divorce.”
“I’m sorry, and I was wrong.” Karl moved forward again. “You’re the only woman I love, and it took me a while to recognize it. That’s all. Hand me the baby, please, Damaris? Put the gun down, and let’s go home.”
“You talk about her all the time.”
“I won’t do that anymore.”
She continued to jiggle the fussy baby and keep the gun trained on me. “How do I know that? If she stays alive, you’ll always think about her. Always think about how much happier you’d be if you were back with her.”
I heard Pal give a whiny bark outside. Relief flooded through me that my dog lived; however, I didn’t know how badly he’d been hurt. I prayed that Karl would get Damaris under control so I could see to my furry friend.
Karl moved again slowly. “I promise, darling, I only love you. Just hand me the gun. I’ll get you as much help as you need.”
The woman had other ideas. She sobbed and shook her head. “No, no, no, no, she can’t be here. She has to die. She has to die. She has to die!”
Sirens sounded in the distance and got louder as they approached. Help was near and I saw movement in my peripheral vision, but my attention stayed focus on the gun still pointing at me.
Damaris pulled the trigger.
Twenty-Five
Later, Garrett might analyze and break it down. Later, he might go through the steps in his head and figure out there had been a better way. Later, he might drink away the memory of the first sight of Bertie with a gun pointed at her.
At the moment the crazy woman pulled the trigger, all Garrett could think about was protecting Bertie.
Three seconds could last a lifetime. Angus snuck behind Damaris and forced her gun arm up to the ceiling as she fired. He stood taller than the woman and belted an arm around her shoulders to lift her in the air, leaving her on tiptoe and limiting her movement. Patrick swooped under and somehow got the baby free of the carrier. He rushed to the other side of the cars with the screaming infant, putting distance and barriers between them. Karl jerked, cried out in pain, and crashed to the floor. Garrett tackled Bertie and landed next to him, shielding her with his body. His elbow cracked against the tile floor, and agony shot up to his shoulder.
“Karl!” Damaris cried. “Oh, my God, Karl!”
The man rolled to his back and clutched his side. Blood seeped between his fingers, and his face screwed up with pain. “Goddamn, crazy bitch.”
The deputy who had taken our statements for the car vandalism plucked the gun from Damaris’s hand. “You can let her go now.” He took over from Angus, and the handcuffs closed with a loud click over Damaris’s hysterical crying. “Ambulance is on the way. Good thing you called one.”
Bertie squirmed free. “Garrett. Are you okay?”
“Arm’s broken.” He gritted his teeth against the movement and rolled to his back to lie parallel with Bertie’s ex-husband.
“What can I do to help?”
“Pressure on Karl’s wound.”
She grabbed a dishtowel from the cabinet rail and folded it into a pad. Karl barked as she placed it on the bloody bullet hole and pushed down. “Fuck! That hurts.”
“I’ve never heard you cuss so much.”
“I’ve never been fucking shot before. Where’s my daughter?”
“Patrick has her. She’s safe.”
The paramedics showed up with boxes of supplies and two more deputies pulled into the tangle of vehicles. One of them took over for Bertie and she hurried back to Garrett’s side. He saw the tears in her eyes. “Garrett… I… I….”
“It’s okay, baby. We’re good. We’re fine.” White hot pain throbbed in his elbow, but he managed to raise his good arm to grasp her hand.
A paramedic came over and stabilized Garrett’s arm with a splint and sling. While he did that, Garrett watched Karl get loaded into the ambulance and Damaris into a squad car.
“Bertie.” He heard him call out as they rolled him to the vehicle. “My daughter. I don’t have the right to ask, but can you take care of her for a while? Call my mom and she’ll come up and get her.”
“Yes, I can do that.”
Garrett noticed he didn’t say anything about Damaris. Karl’s lips had turned white from clenching when he turned his head and their eyes met. “I don’t want to say it out loud, but it’s true. You have her heart now. Hold it close and take care of it.”
“No chance of anyth
ing else, boy-o. I thank you for keeping her safe, but she’s mine and I’m not letting go.”
Tears dripped from Bertie’s eyes and ran down her face. Garrett cradled his arm against his stomach and reached out with the other to brush them away. Statements and paperwork awaited them both, but he hoped he could get his arm taken care of at the hospital first.
Patrick came over to them. “Angus took the pooch to the emergency vet. Back leg looked pretty bad, but he still growled when he got moved. I called Melanie about this little one. She’s got all the baby shit in the world.”
Bertie looked at the tiny bundle resting on Patrick’s chest. “She’s asleep?”
Patrick grinned. “Haven’t you figured out yet I have a special touch with the lasses? Owen’s on his way with his truck and car seat. If you’re steady enough to drive, take my brother to the hospital. I’ll call Connor and Bevvie to meet you there.”
Bertie sniffed and tried to wipe her nose discreetly. “You’re being really helpful, Patrick.”
His grin fell a little. “Yeah, there’s more to me than just a pretty face.”
Garrett’s elbow throbbed, and he could tell it had swelled in size. “Need to get going, babe. Can you do it?”
She wiped again. “Yes, I can. Let’s go.”
Garrett gratefully settled into Bertie’s rental car and put his head back as they drove. She did her best, but every time the road jostled his arm, more spikes drove into it. By the time they arrived at the emergency room, Garrett was ready to scream.
The triage nurse sent him to a cubicle immediately, and the doctor wasted no time in getting an X-ray. “Perfect textbook spiral fracture. You’ll need a rod and screws to put this one back together.”
Bertie stood by Garrett’s bed as the man outlined the surgery. “We need to wait a couple days for the swelling to go down, then we’ll get you in. You’ll be out of commission six to eight weeks, so if you don’t have a Netflix subscription, now’s the time to get one.”
The doctor smiled at his clever joke, but Garrett’s mouth curled inward. News he expected to hear but didn’t want. “Six to eight weeks out of work?”