by Matt Witten
If she did say so herself, they made a good-looking couple. She walked a couple miles a day even in winter, and between that and waitressing at the diner, she’d managed to get back to her pre-baby weight. She had a knack for finding nice clothes at the church thrift store, and she allowed herself one treat: having the ladies at Country Girls color her hair.
Amy ran up to Danny, jumping up and down. “Daddy, we got the best beads. The lady at the store said they had one hundred thousand of them.”
“Wow,” said Danny, sweeping Amy up and giving her a hug. “That’s a very big number.”
Amy squirmed out of Danny’s grasp so she could lay out her beads on the living room table. Susan kissed him hello. “How’d it go?”
Danny gave a fist pump. “We had fourteen people, including three primo prospects. I’m betting we get at least one offer by tomorrow morning.”
“That’s terrific! How about I make chicken to celebrate?”
Amy said, “Wanna see my pink duck, Daddy?”
Amy showed him her beads while Susan put dinner together. She baked the chicken thighs with lemon and garlic for slightly over an hour, just the way Danny liked it. The night before her wedding, Lenora had told her, “Men are simple creatures. Just feed them and they’re happy.” It was the best advice her mom ever gave her.
Their marriage had gone through some tough times. Susan had two miscarriages in her twenties. When Amy, her little miracle, was born, Susan was told her cervix was permanently incompetent and she would never be able to have any more kids.
But the marriage survived her medical problems and the uncertainties of Danny’s career. He had days when he’d get depressed by job stuff and feel like he should have gone to law school instead of settling for being a real estate agent, and he’d get snappish at Susan. But she always knew he’d be himself again soon.
And he hung in with her during those terrible months after she lost her babies. He brought her endless pints of jamoca almond fudge and took her snowmobiling to distract her. Sometimes he rode faster than she liked, but the excitement was probably exactly what she needed.
“Dinner’s ready!” she called out. Danny and Amy raced each other to see who would sit down at the table first. They all had second helpings of the chicken and potatoes, and Amy regaled her parents with a long, complicated story about a baby hoot owl that liked to eat snakes, but only if they were mean. Susan caught Danny’s eye and they smiled.
After dinner, while Susan did the dishes, Danny and Amy played with her dolls and then wrestled each other on the living room floor. “I’m gonna getchou,” Danny growled, and Amy squealed with mock fear. Susan loved it that her husband and daughter were so close. I wish I’d had that with my father, she thought. Susan’s dad had always come home worn out from his job at the paper mill and gone straight to the living room sofa, where he’d kill a few beers and watch a game. He dropped dead of a heart attack when Susan was only ten.
After that, she never had any other real father figures. Her mom went to work as a dental receptionist and began “sowing my wild and crazy oats,” as she put it, dating a variety of guys, some married, some not. Susan got that her mom had a right to her own life, but she felt Lenora made some pretty dumb choices, especially when she drank. It was one reason Susan went easy on the drinking herself.
As she scrubbed chicken fat off the baking sheet, she bit her lip and thought about what had happened two nights ago. Lenora was babysitting Amy, and they went out for ice cream with Lenora’s latest beau. Amy came home afterwards and declared the guy a “dodohead.”
“He kept calling me ‘Pretty Baby,’” Amy said. “Like ‘Hey, Pretty Baby.’ And then he’d touch my hair. Eww!”
Susan needed to have a talk with her mom about that. Amy shouldn’t have to spend time with Lenora’s boyfriends, especially the ones who made her uncomfortable. Susan had been putting off this argument since Thursday night, but she should get it over with. I’ll call Mom right now, she thought.
But when she finished the dishes, Danny was in his study with the door closed, sending emails to clients and potential clients and getting on real estate listservs. His being on the internet would tie up the phone line for the next hour, and Susan wouldn’t be able to call Lenora after all.
Well, that was okay. This computer stuff was important for Danny’s business. Besides, maybe she was better off waiting ’til tomorrow to talk to her mom. Lenora was never at her best on a Sunday night, when the weekend was almost over.
So Susan hung out with Amy at the kitchen table, stringing beads onto the necklace. They could only use about fifty beads for the size necklace Amy wanted, so they spent a lot of time choosing which ones to include.
“The dolphin and the duck should be next to each other, because they’re gonna get married,” Amy declared.
“That makes sense,” Susan said. “What about the blue unicorn?”
“Well, he should have yellow beads on both sides. Or maybe red … What do you think, Mommy?” Amy asked, furrowing her brow as if the whole world depended on it.
Susan smiled and smoothed Amy’s hair. How lucky was she to be able to bring this beautiful creature onto this earth?
They beaded the necklace together as the sky grew dark.
CHAPTER FOUR
SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 28, PRESENT DAY
THE PARTY AT the Crow Bar broke up after midnight. Susan stood outside in the cold Adirondack wind thanking and hugging everybody, feeling their warmth.
But then it was time to go home. Susan got into the ancient Dodge Dart with her mom, and Terri gave her a final goodbye. “Have fun!” Terri called through the window. “Knock ’em dead!”
Susan realized this was a twisted joke about the execution and shook her head, smiling.
Five minutes later, Susan and Lenora were back at their house. It was the same cozy three-bedroom just off 9N that Susan had lived in years ago with Danny and Amy. Lenora wheeled her oxygen tank up the driveway, while Susan carried a big plastic garbage bag full of money from tonight’s party.
“Wow, that sure looks heavy,” Lenora said. “How much you figure is in there?”
“A lot,” Susan said. She stumbled a little on the front steps, feeling wrung out. But the night had definitely been a success, raising way more money than she’d expected.
She unlocked the door and they went in. As they walked through the shag-carpeted living room, Lenora said, “The hell with the execution. You should go to Florida and hang out on the beach.”
Not this again. For months now, Lenora had been trying to talk her out of attending the execution. But she knew her mom didn’t mean any harm; she was just afraid if Susan saw the Monster in person again, it would bring back old traumas. So she swallowed her annoyance and kept her tone light. “Don’t know about Florida, but maybe I’ll hit Niagara Falls on the way.”
She wasn’t sure if she was serious about that idea, but Lenora jumped on it. “You should. And go to Mount Rushmore too. I bet that’s really something.”
They entered the kitchen, where Susan untied the garbage bag. Lenora moved the duck-shaped coffee creamer and duck-shaped napkin holder off the table to make room for the money. One thing the two of them had always agreed on was commemorating Amy’s love of ducks. Whenever Susan or Lenora found a duck at a yard sale, they grabbed it.
Susan dumped the bills onto the table and blinked at them, overwhelmed. She had never seen this much money in her life, not even on a Saturday night at the diner during Fourth of July weekend.
Lenora held up two fat handfuls of bills and brought them to her nose. “God, this money smells good. I just wanna eat it.”
Susan picked up a couple of stray bills from the floor. “We should put them in piles.”
They began making piles of ones, fives, tens, and the occasional twenties. In the corner by the stove, Rumples, their old gray cat, licked his paws.
“You know, with this much cash,” Lenora said, and Susan prepared to get annoyed again, because s
he knew exactly what was coming, “you could take a plane.”
Lenora had gotten obsessed with the fear Susan would get in an accident while driving to North Dakota. Yeah, okay, so she’d never gone on such a long trip by herself before, but still, she was a perfectly decent driver. Her mom needed to relax!
But Susan was pretty sure she understood why Lenora was being so overprotective. Her mom was still trying to make up for not protecting Amy like she should have.
“A plane would cost eight forty round trip,” Susan said as patiently as she could.
Lenora pointed at the piles of bills. “You’ve got more than that right there.”
“Yeah, but I need money for the motel in North Dakota—that’s ninety a night, plus food money. Plus, I’m leaving you fifty dollars to tide you over for the week.”
“I don’t need any money. I’ll be fine.”
Susan didn’t answer. They both knew Lenora would have to do another food shopping in a couple days that would cost, if anything, more than fifty.
Lenora said, “Can’t you put the airplane on your card?”
Was her mom developing memory problems or just being willfully stubborn? Susan’s jaw tightened. “I maxed out, Mom, I told you that.” She took rubber bands off the windowsill and wrapped them around the piles of ones and fives. The piles of tens and twenties were smaller, so she’d use paper clips on them.
“I don’t like you driving that far north. What if it snows?”
“You’re the one who’s always saying I should be more adventurous.”
“Yeah, but not like this. I don’t want you slipping around on the highway. And your leg ain’t gonna like driving fifteen hundred miles.”
Enough already. Susan sat back down and looked straight at Lenora’s face. “Mom, I’ve been waiting twenty years for that man to die. If my leg bothers me, I’ll just cut it off and keep going.”
Lenora regarded Susan and shook her head. “You shoulda got married again,” she said.
Susan rolled her eyes. “Okay, Mom.”
“Don’t roll your big brown eyes at me. You’re still a very attractive woman. It’s not right, you hiding yourself away.”
“I said okay.”
But Lenora wouldn’t quit. “What about that guy Evan? He’s handsome, don’t you think?”
“Whatever,” Susan said, realizing immediately she sounded like a teenager. She got back up from the table and scavenged in the drawers for paper clips.
Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea, having Lenora live with her. But she worried about her mom living alone, and anyway they didn’t have enough money to keep up two places anymore.
Lenora said, “I could give your hair a little trim. Take some of that gray out.”
Susan had to hand it to her mom: she never quit. She paper clipped the twenties and stuffed them way down into the inside pockets of her worn wool coat, alongside the other bills. Then she stood up. “Big day tomorrow. I’m going to bed. You should too.”
“Nope. Gotta finish your scarf.” Lenora took out her knitting. She was making a bright aqua scarf for Susan to wear when she went out on the road.
“Okay, good night, Mom.”
“Good night, baby.”
Susan went off to bed, in the same bedroom she once shared with Danny. Her mom slept in Danny’s old study, because Amy’s bedroom was still full of her stuff. Her two bunnies hugged each other on the pillow, just like they did on the morning she was taken. Susan had made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t clean out Amy’s room until after her killer was dead. Lenora thought that was stupid, but Susan wouldn’t budge.
The next morning, she woke up at five thirty and couldn’t get back to sleep. She made some coffee and decided she’d take off early.
In the quiet of dawn, she looked around at the house she’d be leaving soon. Getting milk for her coffee, her eyes fixed on the refrigerator door. It was covered with photographs of Susan, Lenora, and Amy through the years: sledding together at Buttermilk Falls, swimming in the lake, holding up two little pumpkins they’d grown in the backyard. At eye level was a picture of Susan and Amy on Halloween night, wearing matching princess outfits and mugging for the camera.
There were pictures of Danny too, down toward the bottom of the fridge. Susan always felt a little sad when she looked at them, but they made her smile too: the shots of her and Danny ice fishing together in Lake George—not really her thing, but she’d come to enjoy it—and honeymooning up at Bar Harbor in Maine. And then there was her favorite picture of him, at the hospital the day Amy was born. Susan held Amy in her arms, and Danny kissed the baby’s tiny perfect fingers—
“Good morning, honey,” Lenora said. Susan watched her mom walk in, rolling her tank and proudly holding up the newly made scarf. “I got this all finished for you.”
Two hours later, when Susan was all packed and ready to go, Lenora wrapped the scarf around Susan’s neck. She looked at herself in the living room mirror. She had on her old gray coat, a dark blue sweater, faded jeans, and boots that had been new eight years ago. But the bright aqua scarf made her look more cheery.
It made her feel like she was going on a big adventure.
Though it was kind of screwy to think of going to an execution as an adventure.
She watched her mom’s bony, veined hands adjusting the scarf, and reminded herself how much her mom had always loved her. Lenora hadn’t been perfect, and God knows she had made one terrible mistake. But she’d been a good mother.
“Thanks, Mom. It’s beautiful.”
Her mom beamed. Then she said, “I fixed you a bag of peanuts and chocolate chips. Also, those sweetened cranberries you like.”
Susan kind of wished her mom had saved that money to buy basic groceries for herself this week, but she just said, “Thanks, Mom.”
“I put it in your purse. Also, I made you this to take with you.” Lenora went over to the fridge and grabbed a small-sized Windex spray bottle from on top of it. The spray bottle was filled with a red liquid. She handed it to Susan.
“What is it?” Susan said, bringing it close to her face.
“Careful! That’s pepper spray.”
Susan quickly moved the bottle an arm’s length away from her. God, her mom was a total nut. “Seriously?”
Lenora nodded. “Extra strength. Red pepper and rubbing alcohol.”
Susan raised her eyebrows at her mom, incredulous. Lenora was offended. “Hey, there’s a lotta wackadoodles out there.”
Susan decided not to argue. After all, what if she did have a car accident and this was the last time she ever saw her mom? Or what if Lenora had a stroke while she was gone? Susan had learned only too well never to take anything for granted. “Thanks,” she said, and put the pepper spray in her purse.
Then she rolled her suitcase with the half-broken zipper across the muddy gravel to her car and lifted it into the trunk. She couldn’t believe she was finally going on this trip. As her mom wheeled her tank outside and watched, Susan put her purse in the front seat.
Now she was ready to go.
She was beyond ready.
She told Lenora, “I should be back by next Wednesday. I laid out two whole weeks’ worth of pills for you.”
Lenora asked, “Did you call Danny?”
Susan was about to slam the trunk door shut, but she stopped and looked at her mom. She got the feeling Lenora had been wanting to ask this question for days, but hadn’t wanted to upset her.
Lenora thrust out her chin, covering her discomfort with belligerence. “Well, did you?”
Susan shrugged and said, “What for?” She didn’t want her mom to know how much she’d been thinking about Danny lately, ever since the Monster’s final petition had been rejected by the Supreme Court and his execution was assured at last.
“Amy was Danny’s daughter too, you know,” Lenora said. “Ain’t his fault y’all split up.”
“Never said it was.”
“He wasn’t perfect maybe but he was a good
man. You guys just got dealt some shitty cards.”
Funny, just a minute ago Susan had been thinking pretty much the same thing about Lenora: she wasn’t perfect but didn’t deserve her bad luck. Susan’s head felt suddenly heavy, even though it was still morning. She didn’t want to think about Danny right now. She slammed the trunk shut. “I gotta go.”
She stepped closer to her mom and frowned a little, looking at her mom’s stooped posture and thinking how frail she’d become. But then Susan smiled.
“What’s funny?” Lenora said, ready to get offended again.
“Nothing.” Actually, she’d been thinking that, frail though her mom was, she wouldn’t be surprised if she brought a guy home some night while Susan was away. “I asked Terri to look in on you.”
She bent down and kissed Lenora. Her mom hugged her fiercely. “Honey, if you get tired, pull over.”
“I will, Mom. I promise.”
She got in the car, took a deep breath, and drove off in a puff of black engine smoke. She saw her mom waving goodbye in her rearview mirror and waved back.
Half a block away, at the corner of 9N, she passed the spot where the Homestead Motel used to be. She was grateful the old haven for small-time crooks and seedy transients had gone out of business. Now it was a collection of small condemned buildings with boarded-up windows and a For Sale sign that had been out front for five years.
She turned left on 9N and drove on. The morning sky was dark gray and every tree that could lose its leaves in winter had already lost them. As she drove, she tried to remember the last time she’d been away from Lake Luzerne for as long as a week and a half. Geez, had it been her honeymoon?