Journaled to Death

by Heather Redmond

  ‘How do I forgive you, Ryan?’ she whispered, just as the door opened again.

  ‘Mandy.’ The cold voice belonged to Elaine Moffat. Seventy-one now, she had always reminded Mandy of the repressed and judgmental upper-class mother, Emily Gilmore, from the Gilmore Girls television show, but without the intelligence or charm.

  ‘Mom,’ Mandy said. She wasn’t sure if she should still call Elaine that, but after all these years, what was the alternative?

  Elaine frowned but didn’t correct her.

  ‘I’d like to see Vellum. Has she arrived home from school?’

  ‘About ten minutes ago.’ Elaine looked at her impassively, thanks to heavy Botox paralyzing her face. ‘I hope you don’t think it is acceptable for you to show up uninvited.’

  Mandy stiffened. ‘She’s my daughter. I have the right to see her. I don’t want to get my lawyer involved.’

  ‘You made your choice, Mandy.’ The superior tone again.

  Mandy’s response was flat. ‘No, your son did.’

  ‘He tried to save your marriage.’

  ‘Oh, please.’ Mandy put one hand on her hip. ‘One night. One night he called me, drunk, after he’d moved out, after his affair, and said he was sorry and we could try again. I’m surprised he even remembered the conversation afterward.’

  She could see the clockwork mechanism of Elaine’s slow-moving brain, the exact moment she seemed to dismiss Mandy’s words. ‘Well, you must have said no, and therefore you forfeited any right to be a part of my family.’

  The door started to close, but Mandy put her hand on it and stared into the old battleaxe’s eyes. ‘I would like to see my daughter. I can stand here in the rain and text her to come outside, but it would be a lot more dignified if you’d simply let me in.’

  Elaine let Mandy hold the door open. She figured it was safe to step inside. Her sensible shoes squelched on the oriental rug. Elaine sighed at the damp spots, then held out her hand for Mandy’s coat.

  ‘She is in the guest room at the far end of the floor,’ Elaine said, inclining her regal head at the curving mahogany banister surrounding the wide steps that led upstairs.

  ‘Thank you,’ Mandy said with dignity, slipping off her shoes at the edge of the rug. The upstairs was carpeted and no shoes were allowed.

  Nerves carried her until she reached Vellum’s door. She tried not to wonder which of the bedrooms housed Cory, but he had probably taken over the basement suite again. He had still used it on weekends when she met him in college.

  The door was cracked open. ‘Vellum?’ she called.

  Mandy heard springs squeak just out of sight. ‘Mom?’

  Vellum appeared in the doorway, her eyes slightly shadowed and her hair pulled into a messy ponytail. Mandy didn’t recognize the beige slacks and sweater set.

  ‘Good grief! Did your grandmother dress you?’

  ‘Mom,’ Vellum said, half-laughing and half-crying, then she wrapped her arms around Mandy’s waist.

  Mandy tucked her daughter against her and leaned from side to side, comforting her.

  ‘It’s Wednesday,’ Vellum said, her voice muffled in Mandy’s shirt. ‘What are you doing here? And why does your hair smell funny?’

  ‘I came to apologize. And I got flour in my hair. Sorry.’

  ‘For what?’ Vellum lifted her head. ‘Baking accident?’

  ‘For letting Ryan move into the basement in the first place. And yes, at work.’

  Vellum frowned. ‘Really?’

  Mandy put her hand to her forehead. ‘Really. I’ll never let anyone with obvious problems stay with us again.’

  ‘That’s good. I mean, not that he ever caused problems.’

  Poor Ryan. ‘Not that we saw, until it was too late. I owe several people an apology for suspecting them of murder.’

  ‘You know who killed Ryan?’

  ‘Yes. It was someone at work, honey. Not connected to us.’ Fifteen was far too young to hear about her mother’s brush with a syringe holding who knew what.

  ‘Maybe you do owe Linda an apology, but don’t apologize to Crystal next door. She’s such a jerk.’

  Mandy held back her laughter. ‘Duly noted. Listen, honey, you can stay here with Cory if you want. You’re old enough to decide, and we can go back to court to change things.’

  ‘That’s a pain.’

  Mandy pressed her hands together in front of her chin. ‘True, but you ought to know that I want you home. And we should have a cop moving in downstairs, not a bad guy.’ She smiled brightly. ‘Roosevelt Way, safer than ever!’

  Vellum nodded thoughtfully, not relieving the mood. ‘I’ll think about it.’

  ‘That’s all I can ask.’ Mandy hesitated. ‘You need to do what’s best for you.’

  ‘What are you going to do now?’

  ‘I have the rest of the week off, so I’m going to take the sketches I’ve done and turn them into a second April monthly kit, and then film another ‘Plan With Me’ video in collaboration with Reese.’

  ‘Cool!’ Vellum exclaimed. ‘How about Friday after school? You can do the kit tonight and sketch out the spreads tomorrow, and we can film on Friday?’

  ‘Perfect,’ Mandy said. ‘Thanks. I’m so glad you want to be involved.’

  ‘It’s my part-time job.’ Vellum shrugged. ‘I didn’t quit my job.’

  ‘Very responsible of you,’ Mandy praised. ‘I guess I’ll see you Friday.’

  ‘Yeah, but message me the designs. I want to see them.’

  Mandy nodded. ‘I can’t wait.’

  ‘And keep Reese in the loop. You don’t want to outshine her too much,’ Vellum advised.

  ‘Good point.’ Mandy bit her lip. ‘I guess I had better go. Elaine wasn’t too excited to have me stop by.’

  ‘She blames you for the divorce, but we both know that’s ridiculous.’

  ‘Yeah, but she does have a fancy security system and no druggie cousins in the basement.’

  Vellum rolled her eyes. ‘No, she just has Dad.’

  Mandy raised her eyebrows, not sure how to take that, but Cory wasn’t her problem anymore. ‘He around?’

  ‘I don’t know. I just got home, but it’s not like there’s any point in you talking to him. I see Grandma like ten times more than I see him. He’s not exactly parenting.’

  ‘That’s too bad. Just remember, no matter what, I’m a phone call away. I’ll pick you up, listen to you, anything.’

  ‘If you remember to keep your phone charged and in your pocket.’

  Mandy saluted her. ‘I’m getting better. Heading toward perfection.’

  Vellum smiled. ‘You can try, Mom. I’ll see you Friday after school.’

  ‘Did you dream about tulips last night?’ Reese asked Mandy on Friday evening. They were perched on the iron chairs in Mandy’s backyard, watching a trio of handsome police officers walk back and forth between the driveway and the back stairs. Detective Justin Ahola had signed the lease Mandy had printed off the internet and paid his first and last months’ rent as well as a damage deposit. The Meadows household financial worries were a distant memory.

  ‘So many tulips,’ Mandy agreed. ‘I’m glad I did some of the original sketches in watercolor so that I didn’t have to do everything with my iPad.’

  ‘I don’t know how to do real sketching, just digital,’ Reese said. ‘But you’re older than me.’

  Mandy rolled her eyes. ‘Everyone learns how to use art supplies in school, Reese. It’s just a matter of whether you keep up your skills or not.’

  Reese grabbed Mandy’s arm and shushed her as the box-carrying cop went by. The other two were working together, hauling in furniture.

  ‘I admit I lost my mind when the mattress went by,’ Reese murmured, ‘but do you think that one is single? He’s adorable.’

  ‘He’s not Indian,’ Mandy said, watching from the rear. The policeman wore jeans that fit his thick, athletic frame, and he’d lost the beanie that had covered his short, buzzed black hair a couple
of trips ago. His jacket had come off next, exposing thick, weightlifter’s arms covered in smooth, reddish-brown skin.

  ‘No tattoos, and an officer of the law. My parents might be OK with that.’

  ‘I assume he’s a good friend of our Detective Ahola to help him move. We’ll see him around again.’

  ‘It just had to be February. You can’t have a casual backyard barbeque in February,’ Reese fretted. ‘Football game party? Are there still football parties?’

  ‘It’s almost March. It’s about baseball season, right?’

  ‘We’ll think of something,’ Reese said, smiling flirtatiously at Detective Ahola and his other friend, who had a friendly face but a frame so large that he intimidated both women.

  Mandy heard a squeak of fear and stood up from her chair. She saw Vellum at the fence, struggling with her backpack and suitcase, her eyes wide with shock at the sight of the oversized cop.

  ‘Hello, Vellum,’ Detective Ahola said, smiling at her. ‘Remember me? Justin? I’m moving into the apartment now that your cousin’s case is closed.’

  Vellum stared at him. ‘Umm, alone?’

  ‘Sure. My buddies are just helping me move. This big lug is Detective Burns, and the other guy is Officer Frost.’

  ‘He can frost my cookies any time,’ Reese cooed, fluttering her eyelashes.

  ‘He’s single,’ Justin said, humor dancing in his eyes.

  Reese’s eyes went wide and all of a sudden something on her phone seemed very important.

  Mandy smiled at her daughter. ‘Ready to film our “Plan With Me”?’

  Vellum nodded as Mandy gave her a hug. ‘Ummm, Detective? I’ve been wondering something.’

  ‘What?’ Justin asked.

  ‘Mom was always worried that Ryan slipped on her journal and fell down the stairs. I know that’s not what happened, but where did that teal journal come from?’

  Justin took Vellum’s suitcase from her hand. ‘It was Scott’s.’

  ‘Scott Nelson had a fancy journal?’ Vellum asked.

  Reese colored. ‘It was a teal journal?’

  ‘Yes, why?’ Mandy asked.

  ‘Was it one of mine?’ Reese asked the detective.

  ‘One of yours?’ Vellum asked.

  ‘I gave them away when I started my video channel,’ Reese said. ‘To a lot of people around the hospital. Not to Mandy, of course. She is my business rival.’

  Justin nodded. ‘It had your information printed inside the cover, but most of the fingerprints were Scott’s. All the notations inside were in code, however, and only a few pages were used, so it wasn’t until he confessed that we understood the contents.’

  ‘Oh,’ Mandy said, remembering that cryptic piece of paper she’d found. It must have been in the journal. ‘Scott admitted he left it there on purpose, since I have the journaling business.’

  ‘By the way,’ Justin said, ‘the locks will have to be changed. Scott had a copy of your basement door key in his possession.’

  ‘He must have taken Ryan’s key.’ She didn’t want to think about when he had done that. ‘Did he put the hammer in that cabinet?’

  Justin worked his jaw from side to side. ‘Yes, but he hasn’t admitted when he put it there. I’ll pay for the locks to be changed. It is in my best interest.’ He smiled at them, then went up the back stairs with the suitcase as his friends crisscrossed the yard with boxes.

  Mandy winced. She still didn’t know if Scott had come up behind Vellum in the laundry room, or if her daughter had really seen a ghost. Maybe she’d better schedule that séance after all.

  ‘That’s a big suitcase,’ Reese said to Vellum. ‘Did you have a project at school?’

  ‘No, it was stuff I took to my grandma’s house,’ Vellum explained.

  Mandy tensed. Could Vellum be moving back home?

  Reese seemed to sense they needed some private time. She smiled brightly and said, ‘I’m so excited to be guest-starring in your “Plan With Me”. I’ll see you in your solarium!’ Then sashayed up the stairs behind Justin.

  ‘Guest-starring?’ Vellum asked, wide-eyed and frowning.

  Mandy winced. ‘Marketing idea. I had to move the camera back, but I can get all three of us in the shot. Then I’ll guest-star in her video tomorrow.’

  ‘That’s a new one. Three journalers in one video.’ Vellum held out her hands.

  Mandy chuckled and put her orange-tipped hands into her daughter’s. ‘With two journaling vloggers on the same block, we’re sure to come up with some crazy ideas. We’ll see if it works.’

  ‘I see you had time to do a proper manicure for once.’

  ‘Reese and I went to a salon at Northgate Mall last night. Hers are blue, exact opposite on the color wheel. Last I checked you had a French manicure.’ She looked down. ‘Still do. We should look good together.’

  ‘Mom?’

  ‘What, sweetie?’

  ‘I had a crazy idea too, going to Laurelhurst,’ Vellum confessed. ‘I’m sorry I wanted to move out.’

  Mandy squeezed her hands before letting go. ‘I know you didn’t feel safe here.’

  ‘I was too safe there,’ Vellum whined. ‘Grandma drove me nuts, and Dad is totally self-absorbed. She orders him around too, but then he just disappears. It’s not like having a dad over there, just a loser big brother. Not only that, the guest room is really stuffy but I couldn’t open the window because they are painted shut and alarmed.’

  ‘That’s too bad.’ Mandy sighed for Vellum’s benefit.

  ‘At least when I see him here, he acts like a father.’ Vellum sighed too. ‘Anyway, I know you would never let me get hurt. And you have a tenant again, so the money problem is solved.’

  Mandy put her arm around Vellum’s shoulders as the three policemen crossed paths, one with a box, the others heading back to the moving van.

  ‘It looks as though life is settling into a new normal,’ Mandy said, gazing at the moving men. When she looked up, Reese waved through the art room windows. ‘It’s going to be busy around here.’

  Linda appeared in the driveway, bearing a plastic tub. She waved. ‘I brought brownies. I saw all the activity when I looked out of the upstairs window.’

  Vellum chuckled as Linda came toward them. ‘I usually wouldn’t like a bunch of strange men around, but I think we have the good kind.’

  Mandy hooked her hand around Linda’s arm and, laughing, the trio went up the back stairs together.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I am so grateful for the community who assisted with this book! First and most importantly, I need to thank Cheryl Schy for her unending cheer in answering questions about the Maple Leaf neighborhood in Seattle. My time living on Roosevelt Way was much less recent than hers.

  Thank you to Gary Blatter for answering insurance questions, to Kayla Mason from Planning With Kay for answering planner business questions, and to the Quora.com community for answering hospital questions. Thank you to ‘J’ – a police officer who prefers to remain anonymous, for answering my many procedural questions. Thank you to author J.M. Frey for facilitating the connection. Also, thank you to the WritersDetective – a Q&A group on Facebook, for answering my questions. All mistakes or dramatic license are my own.

  Mandy’s version of journaling involves art and I appreciate the support and feedback of Mary Jo Hiestand, Stand Hiestand, and Donielle Dickerson. I appreciate Ryder Carroll’s leadership in the journaling community and how his book The Bullet Journal Method has fine-tuned many journaling practices.

  A number of people read part of this book or the entire manuscript and offered their opinions. Thank you to Delle Jacobs, Marilyn Hull, Peggy Laurance, Judy DiCanio, Mary Keliikoa, Mary Jo Hiestand, Cheryl Schy, Donielle Dickerson, and Paula Hrankowski. My agent Laurie McLean was an invaluable part of this feedback process as well and her support has meant everything.